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5 


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THE BAG OF 
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^ 

GEO. 

MANNYILLE 

BY 

FENN 

AUTHOR OF 

•“This Man’s Wife,” 4 
Etc., Etc. ^ , 



1know SlI Momcn by these peesents, that 

while sundry and almost countless imitations of and substitutes for 
Enoch Morgan’s Sons Sapolio are offered by unscrupulous parties, 
who do not hesitate to represent them as the original article, 


^ bi0 llnbcnturc WITNESSETH, that there is but one 
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in popularity, and widely known A / ‘ > 

not only through its own merits, ^ Vi /) /v u 

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ENOCH MORGAN’S 



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LOVELL’S LIBRART. 


COMPLETE CATALOGUE BY AUTHORS. 

Lovell’S Library now contains the complete writings of most of the best standanl 
authors, such as Dickens, Thackeray, Eliot, Carlyle, Ruskin, Scott, Lytton, Black, etc., 
etc. 

Each number is issued in neat 12mo form, and the type will be found larger, and tha 
paper better, than in any other cheap series published. 

JOHN W. LiOVEIiL. COMPANY, 

P. 0. Box 1992. lA and 16 Vesey St., New York. 


BY G. M. ADAM AND A. E. 


WETHERALD 

846 An Algonquin Maiden 20 

BY MAX ADELER 

295 Random Shots 20 

325 Elbow Room 20 

BY GUSTAVE AIMARD 

560 The Adventurers 10 

667 The Trail-Hunter 10 

673 Pearl of the Andes 10 

1011 Pirates of the Prairies 10 

1021 The Trapper’s Daughter 10 

1032 The Tiger Slayer 10 

1045 Trappers of Arkansas 10 

1052 Border Rifles 10 

1063 The Freebooters 10 

1069 The White Scalper 10 

BY MRS. ALDERDICE 

346 An Interesting Case 20 

BY MRS. ALEXANDER 

62 The Wooing O’t, 2 Part.s, each 16 

99 The Admiral’s Ward 20 

209 The Executor 20 

349 Valerie’s Fate 10 

664 At Bay 10 

746 Beaton’s Bargain 20 

777 A Second Life 20 

799 Maid, Wife, or Widow 10 

840 By Woman’s Wit 20 

995 Which Shall it Be ? 20 

BY F. ANSTEY 

30 V ice V ersk ; or, A Lesson to Fathers. . 20 

394 The Giant’s Robe 20 

453 Black Poodle, and Other Tales 20 

616 The Tinted Venus 15 

765 A Fallen Idol 20 

BY T. S. ARTHUR 

496 Woman’s Trials 20 

507 The Two Wives 15 

618 Married Life 15 

638 The Ways of Providence 15 

645 Home Scenes 15 

654 Stories for Parents 15 

663 Seed-Time and Harvest 15 

668 Words for the Wise 15 

674 Stories for Young Housekeepers 16 

679 Lessons in Life 16 

682 Off-Hand Sketches 16 

685 Tried and Tempted • 15 


BY HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN 


419 Fairy Tales 20 

BY EDWIN ARNOLD 

436 The Light of Asia 20 

455 Pearls of the Faith 16 

472 Indian Song of Songs 10 

BY W. E. AYTOUN 

351 Lays of the Scottish Cavaliers 20 

BY ADAM BADEAU 

756 Conspiracy 25 

BY SIR SAMUEL BAKER 

206 Cast up by the Sea 20 

227 Rifle and Hound in Ceylon 20 

233 Eight Years’ Wandering in Ceylon. . 20 

BY C. W. BALESTIER 

381 A Fair Device 20 

405 Life of J. G. Blaine 20 

BY R. M. BALLANTYNE 

215 The Red Eric 20 

226 The Fire Brigade ^ 

239 Erling the Bold 20 

241 Deep Down 20 

BY S. BARING-GOULD 

878 Little Tu’penny iQ 

BY GEORGE MIDDLETON BAYNE 

460 Galaski 20 

BY AUGUST BEBEL 

712 Woman 30 

BY MRS. E. BEDELL BENJAMIN 

748 Our Roman Palace 20 

BY A. BENRIMO 

470 Vic 15 

BY E. BERGER 

901 Charles Auchester 20 

BY W. BERGSOE 


BY E. BERTHET 

366 The Sergeant’s Legacy 20 

BY BJORNSTJERNE BJORNSON 

3 The Happy Boy lo 

4 Arne IQ 


iiOVELL'S LIBEAKY 


BY WALTER BESANT 


18 They Were Married 10 

103 Let Nothing You Dismay 10 

267 All in a Garden Fair 20 

268 When the Ship Comes Home 10 

384 Dorothy Forster 20 

699 Self or Bearer 10 

842 The World )Vent Very Well Then , .20 
847 The Holy Rose 10 

1002 To Call Her Mine 20 

BY WILLIAM BLACK 

40 An Adventure in Thule, etc .10 

48 A Princess of Thule 20 

82 A Daughter of Heth 20 

85 Shandon Bells 20 

93 Macleod of Dare 20 

136 Yolande 20 

142 Strange Adventures of a Phaeton, . .20 

146 White Wings 20 

153 Sunrise, 2 Parts, each 15 

178 Madcap Violet 20 

180 Kilmeny 20 

182 That Beautiful Wretch 20 

184 Green Pastures, etc 20 

188 In Silk Attire 20 

213 The Three Feathers 20 

216 Lady Silverdale’s Sweetheart 10 

217 The Four MacNicols 10 

218 Mr. Pisistratus Brown, M.P 10 

225 Oliver Goldsmith 10 

282 Monarch of Mincing Lane 20 

456 Judith Shakespeare 20 

584 Wise Women of Inverness 10 

678 White Heather 20 

958 Sabina Zembra 20 

BY MISS M. E. BRADDON 

88 The Golden Calf 2C 

104 Lady Audley’a Secret 20 

214 Phantom Fortune 20 

266 Under the Red Flag 10 

444 An Ishmaelite 20 

565 Aurora Floyd 20 

588 To the Bitter End 20 

596 Dead Sea Fruit 20 

698 The Mistletoe Bough 20 

766 Vixen 20 

783 The Octoroon 20 

814 Mohawks 20 

^8 One Thing Needful 20 

869 Barbara; or, Splendid Misery 20 

870 John Marchmont’s Legacy 20 

871 Joshua Haggard’s Daughter . 20 

872 Taken at the Flood 20 

873 Asphodel 20 

877 The Doctor’s Wife 20 

878 Only a Clod 20 

879 Sir Jasper’s Tenant 20 

880 Lady’s Mile SO 

881 Birds of Prey 20 

882 Charlotte’s Inheritance 20 

883 Rupert Godwin 20 

886 Strangers and Pilgrims 20 

887 A Strange World 20 

888 Mount Royal 20 

889 Just As I Am .20 

81K) Dead Men’s Shoes 20 

892 Hostages to Fortune 20 

893 Fenton’s Quest 20 

894 The Cloven Foot 20 


BY FRANK BARRETT. 

1009 The Great Hesper 21 

BY R, D. BLACKMORE 

851 Lorna Doone, Part 1 20 

851 Lorna Doone, Part II 20 

936 Maid of Sker 20 

955 Cradock Nowell, Part 1 20 

955 Cradock Nowell, Part II 20 

961 Springhaven 20 

1034 Mary Anerley 20 

1035 Alice Lorraine. 20 

1036 Cristowell 20 

1037 Clara Vaughan 20 

1038 Cripps the Carrier 20 

1039 Remarkable History of Sir Thomas 

Upmore .20 

1040 Erema ; or, My Father’s Sin 20 

BY LILLIE D. BLAKE 

105 Woman’s Place To-day 20 

597 Fettered for Life 25 

BY ANNIE BRADSHAW 

716 A Crimson Stain 20 

BY CHARLOTTE BREMER 

448 Life of Fredrika Bremer 20 

BY CHARLOTTE BRONTE 

74 Jane Eyre 20 

897 Shirley 20 

BY RHODA BROUGHTON 

23 Second Thoughts 20 

230 Belinda... 20 

781 Betty’s Visions 15 

841 Dr. Cupid 20 

1022 Good-Bye, Sweetheart 20 

1023 Red as a Rose is She 20 

1024 Cometh up as a Flower 20 

1025 Not Wisely but too Weil 20 

1026 Nancy 20 

1027 Joan 20 

BY ELIZABETH BARRETT 
BROWNING 

421 Aurora Leigh 2t 

479 Poems 35 

BY ROBERT BROWNING 

552 Selections from Poetical Works 20 

BY WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT 

443 Poems 20 

BY ROBERT BUCHANAN 

318 The New Abelard 20 

696 The Master of the Mine 10 

BY JOHN BUNYAN 

200 The Pilgrim’s Progress 20 

BY ROBERT BURNS 

430 Poems 2® 

BY REV. JAS, S. BUSH 

113 More Words about the Bible 20 

BY E. LASSETER BYNNER 

100 Nimport, 2 Parts, each 15 

102 Tritons, 2 Parts, each IS 


2 


LOVELL^S LIBRARY, 


BY THOMAS CAMPBELL 


626 Poems 20 

BY ROSA NOUCHETE CAREY 

660 For Lilias 20 

911 Not Like other Girls 20 

912 Eobert Ord’s Atonement 20 

959 Wee Wifie 20 

960 Wooed and Married 20 

BY WM. CARLETON 

190 Willy EeiUy 20 

820 Shane Fadh’s Wedding 10 

821 Larry McFarland’s Wake 10 

822 The Party Fight and Funeral 10 

823 The Midnight Mass 10 

824 PhilPurcel ...10 

825 An Irish Oath 10 

826 Going to Maynooth 10 

827 Phelim O’Toole’s Courtship 10 

828 Dominick, the Poor Scholar 10 

829 Neal Malone 10 

BY THOMAS CARLYLE 

486 History of French Eevolution, 2 

Parts, each 25 

494 Past and Present 20 

600 The Diamond Necklace ; and Mira- 

beau 16 

603 Chartism 20 

608 Sartor Resartus 20 

614 Early Kings of Norway 20 

620 Jean Paul Friedrich Richter 10 

622 Goethe, and Miscellaneous Essays. . . 10 

525 Life of Heyne 15 

528 Voltaire and Novalis 15 

641 Heroes, and Hero-Worship 20 

646 Signs of the Times 15 

650 German Literature 15 

661 Portraits of John Knox 15 

671 Count Cagliostro, etc 15 

678 Frederick the Great, Vol. I 20 

680 “ “ “ Vol. II 20 

691 “ “ “ Vol. Ill 20 

610 “ “ “ Vol. IV 20 

619 “ “ “ Vol. V 20 

622 “ “ “ Vol. VI 20 

326 “ “ “ Vol. VII 20 

628 “ “ “ Vol. VIII 20 

630 Life of John Sterling 20 

633 Latter-Day Pamphlets 20 

636 Life of Schiller 20 

643 Oliver Cromwell, Vol. 1 25 

646 “ “ Vol. II 25 

649 “ “ Vol. Ill 25 

652 Characteristics and other Essays. . . 15 

056 Corn Law Rhymes and other Essays . 15 

658 Baillie the Covenanter and other Es- 
says 15 

661 Dr. Francia and other Essays. 15 

BY LEWIS CARROLL 

480 Alice’s Adventures 20 

481 Through the Looking-Glass 20 

BY “ CAVENDISH” 

422 Cavendish Card Essays . . 15 

BY CERVANTES 

417 Don Quixote 30 

BY L. W. CHAMPNEY 

119 Bourbon Lilies 20 


BY VICTOR CHERBITLIEZ 


Samuel Brohl Si Co 

BY BERTHA M. CLAY 

Her Mother’s Sin 20 

Dora Thome 20 

Beyond Pardon 20 

A Broken Wedding-Ring 20 

Repented at Leisure 20 

Sunshine and Roses 20 

The Earl’s Atonement 20 

A^iunaftls Texaptation 20 

Low Works Wonders , 20 

Fair but False 10 

Between Two Sins 10 

At War with Herself 15 

Hilda 10 

Her Martyrdom 20 

Lord Lynn’s Choice 10 

Th« Shadow of a Sin 10 

Wedded and Parted 10 

In Cupid’s Net 10 

Lady Darner’s Secret 20 

A Gilded Sin 10 

Between Two Loves 20 

For Another’s Sin 20 

Romance of a Young Girl 20 

A Queen Amongst Women 10 

A Golden Dawn 10 

Like no Other Love 10 

A Bitter Atonement 20 

Evelyn’s Polly ; .... 20 

Set in Diamonds 20 

A Fair Mystery 20 

Thorns and Orange Blossoms 10 

Romance of a Black Veil 10 

Love’s Warfare 10 

Madolin’s Lover 20 

From Out the Gloom 20 

Which Loved Him Best 10 

A True Magdalen 20 

The Sin of a Lifetime 20 

Prince Charlie’s Daughter 10 

A Golden Heart 10 

Wife in Name Only 20 

A Woman’s Error 20 

Marjorie .20 

A Wilful Maid 20 

Lady Castlemaine’s Divorce 20 

Claribel’s Love Story 20 

Thrown on the World 20 

Under a Shadow 20 

A Struggle for a Ring 20 

Hilary’s Folly 20 

A Haunted Life 20 

A Woman’s Love Story 20 

A Woman’s War 20 

’Twixt Smile and Tear 20 

Lady Diana’s Pride 20 

Belle of Lynn 20 

Marjorie’s Pate 20 

Sweet Cymbeline 20 

Redeemed by Love 20 

The Squire’s Darling 10 

The Mystery of Colde Pell 20 

REV. JAS. FREEMAN CLARK 

Anti-Slavery Days 20 

BY S. T. COLERIDGE 

Poems ,,...30 


242 

183 

277 

287 

420 

423 

458 

466 

474 

476 

658 

593 

651 

669 

689 

692 

694 

695 

700 

701 

718 

720 

727 

730 

733 

738 

739 

740 

744 

752 

764 

800 

801 

803 

804 

806 

807 

808 

809 

810 

811 

812 

815 

896 

922 

923 

926 

928 

929 

930 

932 

933 

934 

969 

984 

985 

986 

988 

989 

1007 

1012 

1013 

BY 

167 

523 


3 


LOVELL’S LIBKAEY. 


BY WILKIE COLLINS 


8 The Moonstone, Part 1 10 

9 The Moonstone, Part 11 10 

24 The New Magdalen 20 

87 Heart and Science 20 

418 “I Say No” 20 

437 Tales of Two Idle Apprentices 15 

683 The Ghost’s Touch 10 

686 My Lady’s Money 10 

722 The Eril Genius 20 

839 The Guilty River 10 

957 The Dead Secret 20 

996 The Queen of Hearts 20 

1003 The Haiinted Hotel 10 

BY HUGH CONWAY 

429 Called Back 15 

462 Dark Days 15 

612 Carriston’s Gift 10 

617 Paul Vargas : a Mystery 10 

^1 A Family Affair 20 

667 Story of a Sculptor 10 

672 Slings and Arrows 10 

715 A Cardinal Sin 20 

745 Living or Dead 20 

760 Somebody’s Story 10 

968 Bound by a Spell 20 

BY J. FENIMORE COOPER 

6 The Last of the Mohicans 20 

63 The Spy 20 

365 The Pathfinder 20 

378 Homeward Bound 20 

441 Home as Found 20 

463 The Deerslayer 30 

467 The Prairie 20 

471 The Pioneer 25 

484 The Two Admirals 20 

488 The Water-Witch 20 

491 The Red Rover 20 

601 The Pilot 20 

606 Wing and Wing 20 

612 Wyandotte 20 

617 Heidenmauer 20 

619 The Headsman 20 

624 The Bravo 20 

627- Lionel Lincoln 20 

629 Wept of Wish-ton-Wish . 20 

632 Afloat and Ashore 25 

539 Miles Wallingford 20 

543 The Monikins 20 

548 Mercedes of Castile 20 

553 The Sea Lions 20 

659 The Crater 20 

662 Oak Openings 20 

670 Satanstoe 20 

576 The Chain-Bearer 20 

687 Ways of the Hour 20 

601 Precaution 20 

603 Redskins 25 

611 Jack Tier 20 

BY KINAHAN CORNWALLIS 

409 Adrift with a Vengeance 26 

BY THE COUNTESS 

1028 A Passion Flower 20 

1041 The World Between Them 20 

by georgiana m. craik 

1006 A Daughter of the People 20 


BY R. CRISWELL 

360 Grandfather Lickfchingle 21 

BY R. H. DANA, JR. 

464 Two Years before the Mast 20 

BY DANTE 

345 Dante’s Vision of Hell, Purgatory, 
and Paradise 20 

BY FLORA A. DARLING 

260 Mrs. Darling’s War Letters 20 

BY JOYCE DARRELL 

315 Winifred Power 20 

BY ALPHONSE DAUDET 

478 Tartarin of Tarascon 20 

604 Sidonie 20 

613 Jack 20 

615 The Little Good-for-Nothing 20 

645 The Nabob 25 

BY REV. C. H. DAVIES, D.D. 

453 Mystic London ..20 

BY THE DEAN OF ST. PAUL'S 

431 Life of Spenser 10 

BY C. DEBANS 

475 A Sheep in Wolf’s Clothing 20 

BY REV. C. F. DEEMS, D.D. 

704 Evolution 20 

BY DANIEL DEFOE 

428 Robinson Crusoe 25 

BY THOS. DE QUINCEY 

20 The Spanish Nun 10 

BY CHARLES DICKENS 

10 Oliver Twist 20 

38 A Tale of Two Cities 20 

76 Child’s History of England 20 

91 Pickwick Papers, 2 Parts, each 20 

140 The Cricket on the Hearth 10 

144 Old Curiosity Shop, 2 Parts, each.. . 15 

150 BarnaBy Rudge, 2 Parts, each 15 

158 David Copperfield, 2 Parts, each 20 

170 Hard Times 20 

192 Great Expectations 20 

201 Martin Chuzzlewit, 2 Parts, each. . . .20 

210 American Notes 20 

219 Dombey and Son, 2 Parts, each 20 

223 Little Dorrit, 2 Parts, each 20 

228 Our Mutual Friend, 2 Parts, each.. .20 

231 Nicholas Nickleby, 2 Parts, each 20 

234 Pictures from Italy 10 

237 T he Boy at Mugby 10 

244 Bleak House, 2 Parts,'bach 20 

246 Sketches of the Young Couples 10 

261 Master Humphrey’s Clock 10 

267 The Haunted House, etc 10 

270 The Mudfog Papers, etc lO 

273 Sketches by Boz 20 

274 A Christmas Carol, etc 15^ 

282 Uncommercial Traveller 20* 

288 Somebody’s Luggage, etc 10 

293 The Battle of Life, etc 10 

297 Mystery of Edwin Drood 20 

298 Reprinted Pieces 20 

302 No Thoroughfare 15 

437 Tales of Two Idle Apprentices., ,,,10 


4 


lovell’s library. 


BY CARL DETLEF 

97 Irene; or, The Lonely Manor 20 

BY PROF. BOWDEN 

404 Life of Southey 10 

BY JOHN DRYDEN 

498 Poems 30 

BY DTI BOISGOBEY 

1018 Condemned Door 20 

BY THE “DUCHESS” 

58 Portia 20 

76 Molly Bawn 20 

78 Phyllis 20 

86 Monica 10 

90 Mrs. Geoffrey 20 

92 Airy Fairy Lilian 20 

126 Loys, Lord Beresford 20 

132 Moonshine and Marguerites 10 

162 Faith and Unfaith 20 

168 Beauty’s Daughters 20 

284 Bossmoyne 20 

451 Doris 20 

477 A Week in Killarney 10 

630 In Durance Vile 10 

618 Dick’s Sweetheart ; or, “ O Tender 

Dolores” 20 

621 A Maiden all Forlorn 10 

624 A Passive Crime 10 

721 Lady Branksmere 20 

735 A Mental Struggle 20 

737 The Haunted Chamber 10 

792 Her Week’s Amusement 10 

802 Lady Valworth’s Diamonds 20 

BY LORD DUFFERIN 

95 Letters from High Latitudes 20 

BY ALEXANDRE DUMAS 

761 Count of Monte Cristo, Part 1 20 

761 Count of Monte Cristo, Part II 20 

775 The Three Guardsmen 20 

786 Twenty Years After 20 

884 The Son of Monte Cristo, Part I 20 

884 The Son of Monte Cristo, Part II. . . 20 

885 Monte Cristo and His Wife 20 

891 Countess of Monte Cristo, Parti. ..20 

891 Countess of Monte Cristo, Part II... 20 

998 Beau Tancred e 20 

BY ALEXANDRE DUMAS, JR. 

992 Camille 10 

BY MRS. ANNIE EDWARDS 

681 A Girton Girl 20 

BY GEORGE ELIOT 

56 Adam Bede, 2 Parts, each 15 

69 Amos Barton 10 

71 Silas Marner 10 

79 Romola, 2 Parts, each 15 

149 Janet’s Repentance 10 

151 Felix Holt 20 

174 Middlemarch, 2 Parts, each 20 

195 Daniel Deronda, 2 Parts, each 20 

202 Theophrastus Such 10 

205 The Spanish Gypsy,and other Poeras20 

207 The Mill on the Floss, 2 Parts, each,15 

208 Brother Jacob, etc 10 

374 Essays, and Leaves from a Note- 

P-Book 20 


BY M. BETHAM-EDWARDS 


203 Disarmed 16 

663 The Flower of Doom 10 

1005 Next of Kin 20 

BY RALPH WALDO EMERSON 

373 Essays 20 

ENGLISH MEN OF LETTERS. 
EDITED BY JOHN MORLEY 

348 Bunyan, by J. A. Froude 10 

407 Burke, by John Morley .10 

334 Burns, by Principal Shairp 10 

347 Byron, by Professor Nichol 10 

413 Chaucer, by Prof . A. W. Ward 10 

424 Cowper, by Goldwin Smith 10 

377 Defoe, by William Minto 10 

383 Gibbon, by J. C. Morrison 10 

226 Goldsmith, by William Black 10 

369 Hume, by Professor Huxley 10 

401 Johnson, by Leslie Stephen 10 

380 Locke, by Thomas Fowler 10 

392 Milton, by Mark Pattison 10 

398 Pope, by Leslie Stephen 10 

364 Scott, by R. H. Hutton 10 

361 Shelley, by J. Symonds 10 

404 Southey, by Professor Dowden 10 

431 Spenser, by the Dean of St. Paul’s. . 10 

344 Thackeray, by Anthony Trollope. . .10 
410 Wordsworth, by F. Myers 10 

BY B. L. FARJEON 

243 Gautran ; or. House of White Shad* 

ows ; 20 

654 Love’s Harvest 20 

856 Golden Bells 10 

874 Nine of Hearts 20 

BY HARRIET FARLEY 

473 Christmas Stories 20 

BY F. W. FARRAR, D.D. 

19 Seekers after God 20 

50 Early Days of Christianity, 2 Parts, 
each 20 

BY GEORGE MANNVILLE FENN 

1004 This Man’s Wife 20 

BY OCTAVE FEUILLET 

41 A Marriage in High Life 20 

987 Romance of a Poor Young Man .... 10 

BY FRIEDRICH, BARON DE LA 

MOTTE FOUQUE 

711 Undine 10 

BY MRS. FORRESTER 

760 Fair Women 20 

818 Once Again 20 

843 My Lord and My Lady ^ 

844 Dolores 20 

850 My Hero 20 

859 Viva 20 

860 Omnia Vanitas 10 

861 Diana Carew 20 

862 From Olympus to Hades ^ 

863 Rhona 20 

864 Roy and Viola 20 

865 June 20 

866 Mignon 20 

867 A Young Man’s Fancy > 2 % 


5 


LOVELL’S LIBEAKY 


BY THOMAS FOWLER 

880 Life of Locke 10 

BY FRANCESCA 

1T7 The Story of Ida 10 

BY R. E. FRANCILLON 

319 A Real Queen 20 

856 Golden Bells 10 

BY ALBERT FRANKLYN 

1 22 Ameline de Bourg 16 

BY L. VIRGINIA FRENCH 

485 My Roses 20 

BY J. A. FROUDE 

348 Life of Banyan 10 

BY EMILE GABORIAU 

114 Monsieur Lecoq, 2 Parts, each 20 

116 The Lerouge Case 20 

120 Other People’s Money 20 

129 In Peril of His Life 20 

138 The Gilded Clique 20 

155 Mystery of Orcival 20 

101 Promise of Marriage 10 

^258 File No. 113 20 

BY HENRY GEORGE 

62 Progress and Poverty 20 

390 Land Question 10 

393 Social Problems 20 

796 Property in Land 15 

BY CHARLES GIBBON 

57 The Golden Shaft 20 

BY J. W. VON GOETHE 

342 Goethe's Faust 20 

343 Goethe's Poem 8 20 

BY NIKOLAI V. GOGOL 

1016 Taras Bulla 20 

BY OLIVER GOLDSMITH 

61 Vicar of Wakefield 10 

362 Plays and Poems 20 

BY MRS. GORE 

89 The Dean’s Daughter 20 

BY JAMES GRANT 

49 The Secret Despatch 20 

BY HENRI GREVILLE. 

ICOl Frankley 20 

BY CECIL GRIFFITH 

732 V ictory Deane 20 

BY ARTHUR GRIFFITHS 

709 No. 99 10 

THE BROTHERS GRIMM 

221 Fairy Tales, Illustrated 20 

BY LIEUT. J. W. GUNNISON 

440 History of the Mormons 16 

BY ERNST HAECKEL 

97 India and Ceylon 20 

BY MARION HARLAND 

107 Housekeeping aud Homernaking. ... 15 

6 


BY F. W. HACKLANDER 

606 Forbidden Fruit 20 

BY H. RIDER HAGGARD 

813 King Solomon’s Mines 20 

848 She 20 

876 The Witch’s Head 20 

900 Jess 20 

941 Dawn 20 

1020 Allan Quatermain 20 

BY A. EGMONT HAKE 

371 The Story of Chinese Gordon 20 

BY LUDOVIC HALEVY 

15 L’ Abb6 Constantin 20 

BY THOMAS HARDY 

43 Two on a Tower 20 

157 Romantic Adventures of a Milk- 
maid 10 

749 The Mayor of Casterbridge 20 

956 The Woodlanders 20 

964 Far from the Madding Crowd 20 

BY JOHN HARRISON AND M. 
COMPTON 

414 Over the Summer Sea 20 

BY J. B. HARWOOD 

269 One False, both Fair 20 

BY JOSEPH HATTON 

7 Clytie 20 

137 Cruel London 20 

BY NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE 

370 Twice Told Tales 20 

376 Grandfather’s Chair 20 

BY MARY CECIL HAY 

466 Under the Will 10 

666 The Arundel Motto 20 

690 Old Myddleton’s Money 20 

787 A Wicked Girl 10 

971 Nora’s Love Test 20 

i'72 The Squire’s Legacy 20 

Dorothy’s Venture 20 

974 My First Offer 10 

975 Back to the Old Home 10 

976 For Her Dear Sake 20 

977 Hidden Perils 20 

978 Victor and Vanquished 20 

BY MRS. FELICIA HEMANS 

583 Poems 30 

BY DAVID J. HILL, LL.D. 

633 Principles and Fallacies of Social- 
ism 15 

BY M. L. HOLBROOK, M.D. 

366 Hygiene of the Brain . 25 

BY MRS. M. A. HOLMES 

709 Woman against Woman 20 

743 A Woman’s Vengeance 20 

BY PAXTON HOOD 

73 Life of Cromwell 15 

BY THOMAS HOOD 

511 Poems 68 


LOVELL’S LIBRARY. 


BY HORRY AND WEEMS 

86 Life of Marion 20 

BY ROBERT HOUDIN 

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964 Out Of hla Reckoning, by Marryat.iO 
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956 The Woodlanders, by Hardy 20 

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973 Dorothy’s Venture, by M. C. Hay. .20 

974 My First Offer, by Mary Cecil Hay. 10 
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989 Sweet Cymbeline, by B. M. Clay.... 20 

990 Open Sesame, by Florence Marryat.20 

991 Mad Dumaresq, by F. Marryat 20 

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994 Lucy Crofton, by Mrs. Oliphant 10 

995 Which Shall it Be ? tiy Mrs. Alex- 

ander 20 

996 The Queen of Hearts, by Collins. . .20 

997 The Golden Hope, by W, C. Russell.20 

998 Beau Tancrede, by Alex. Dumas. .20 

999 Fighting the Air, by F. Marryat. . . 20 

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1000 Frederick the Great and his Court, 


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1001 Frankley, by Henri Grevllle 20 


1002 To Call Her Mine, by W. Be8ant.26 


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1006 A Daughter of the People, by 

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1007 Redeemed by Love, by B. M. Clay.20 

1008 Marrying and Giving in Marriage, , 

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1010 Mrs. Gregory, by Agnes Ray 20 

1011 Pirates of the Prairies, by Aimard.lO 

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1014 The Daughter of an Empress, by 

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1015 Pemberton, by Henry Peterson... 30 

1016 Taras Bulba, by Nikolai V. Gogoi..20 

1017 A Vital Question, by Nikolai G. 

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1020 Allan Quatermain, by Haggard. . . 20 

1021 The Trapper’s Daughter, by 

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1022 Good-Bye Sweetheart, by Rhoda 

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1028 A Near Relation, by Coleridge 20 

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1030 On Her Wedding Morn, by Bertha 

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1035 Alice Lorraine,by R.D.Blackmore.20 

1036 Christowell, byR. D. Blackmore . .20 

1037 Clara Vaughan, by Blackmore 20 

1038 Cripps the Carrier, by Blackmore.20 

1039 Remarkable History of Sir Thomas 

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1040 Erema; or. My Father’s Sin, by 

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1042 The EaiTs Error, by B. M. Clay. .10 

1043 Arnold’s Promise, by B. M. Clay..l0 

1044 Forging the Fetters, by Mrs. Alex- 

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1045 The Trappers of Arkansas, by 

Gustave Aimard 10 


Dealers can always obtain complete Catalogues with imprint, for free distribu- 
tion, on application to the Publishers, 

JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY, 

14 & 16 Vesey Street, New York. 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS 


GEOEGE MANNVILLE FENN 

AUTHOR OP “this MAN’s WIPE,” 'eTC., ETC. 




NEW YORK 

JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY 

14 AND 10 Vesey Street 




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THE BIG OF DIAMONDS, 


CHAPTEE I. 

IN A FOG. 

“ Ugh ! what a night ! And I used to grumble about 
Hogley Marsh 1 Why, it’s like living in a drain 1” 
Eamillies Street, W. C., was certainly not attrac- 
tive at twelve o’clock on that December night, for it 
had been snowing in the early part of the evening; 
that snow was suffering from a fall of blacks; and as 
evil communications corrupt good manners, the evil 
communication of the London soot was corrupting the 
good manners of the heavenly snow, which has become 
smirched by the town’s embrace, and was sorrow- 
fully weeping itself away in tears beneath a sky — 
No, there was not any sky. For four days there 
had not been a breath of air to dissipate the heavy 
mist, and into this mist the smoke of a million chim- 
neys had rolled, mingled, and settled down in the 
streets in one horrible yellowish-black mirk. 

There were gas lamps in Eamillies Street — here 
and there distinguishing themselves by a faint glow 
overhead ; but John Whyley, policeman on the beat, 

, was hardly aware of their existence till he laid his 
hand upon each post. 

Now, only that Burglar Bill & Co. aren’t such 
fools as to come out on such a night as this, here’s 
their chance. Why, they might burgle every house 


4 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


on one side of the street while the whole division was 
on the other. Blest if I know hardly where I am!” 

J. W. stopped and listened, but it seemed as if 
utter silence as well as utter darkness had descended 
upon the great city. But few people were about, 
and where a vehicle passed along a neighboring street 
the patter of hoofs and roll of wheels was hushed by 
the thick snow. 

“ It is a puzzler,” muttered the man. “ Blind man’s 
buff’s nothing to it, and no pretty gals to catch. Now, 
whereabouts am I ? I should say I’m just close to the 
corner by the square, and — well, now, look at that I” 

He uttered a low chuckle, and stared up from the 
curbstone at a dull, red glare that seemed like the 
eye of some fierce monster swimming in the sea of 
fog, and watching the man upon his beat. 

“ And if I didn’t think I was t’other side of the 
street! Ah, how you do ’member me of old times,” 
he continued, apostrophizing the red glare; “ seems 
like being back at Hogley, and looking off the station 
platform to see if you was burning all right after I’d 
been and lit you up. Bed signals for trains — red 
signals for them as wants help,” he muttered as, with 
his hands within his belt, he stepped slowly up under 
an arch of iron scroll-work rusting away, a piece of 
well-forged ornamentation, which had once borne an 
oil lamp, and at whose sides were iron extinguishers, 
into which, in the bygone days when Kamillies was 
a fashionable street, footmen had thrust their smoking 
links. But fashion had gone afar, and Ichabod was 
written metaphorically upon the door of that old 
Queen Anne house, while really there was a tarnished 
brass plate bearing the inscription “ Dr. Chartley,” 
with blistered panels above and below. Arched over 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


5 


the doorstep was an architect’s idea of a gigantic 
shell, supported by two stout boys, whom a lively 
imagination might have thought to be suffering from 
the doctor’s prescriptions, as they glared wildly at 
the red bull’s eye in the centre of the fanlight above 
the door. 

“Nothing like a red signal to show you where you 
are,” said John Why ley, stepping slowly back on to 
the pavement, to the very edge of the curbstone, and 
then keeping to it as his guide for a few yards, till 
he had passed a second door, also displaying the 
red light, and beneath it, in letters nearly rubbed 
away, though certainly not from cleaning, the word 
“ Surgery.” 

“ That’s where that young nipper of a buttons 
lives, him as took a sight at me when I ketched him 
standing on his head a-top' of the dustbin down the 
area. Hullo !” 

John Why ley stood perfectly still and invisible in 
the fog, as the surgery door was opened; there was 
a low scuffling noise, and a hurried whispering. 

“ Get your arm well under him. Hold hard ! 
Shut the door. Mind he don’t slip down. It’s dark 
as pitch. Nqjv then, come on.” 

At that moment a bright light shone upon the 
scene in front of Dr. Chartley’s surgery door, for 
John Why ley gave a turn to the top of the bull’s-eye 
lantern looped on to his belt, and threw up the fig- 
ures of three men, two of whom were supporting on 
either side another, whose head hung forward and 
sidewise, whose legs were bent, and his body in a 
limp, helpless state, which called forth all the 
strength of the others to keep him from subsiding in 
a heap upon the snow. He seemed to be young. 


6 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


heavily bearded, and, as far as his costume could be 
seen in the yellow glare, he wore high boots and a 
pea-jacket ; while his companions, one of whom was 
a keen-faced man, with clean-shaved face and a dark 
moustache, the other rather French-looking from his 
shortly cropped beard, wore ulsters and close travel- 
ing-caps. 

As the light flashed upon the group, one of the men 
drew his breath sharply between his teeth, and for a 
space no one stirred. 

“ Acciden’, gentlemen ?” said John Why ley, giving 
a sniff as if he smelt a warm sixpence, but it was only 
caused by the soot-charged fog. 

The constable’s speech seemed to break the spell, 
and one of the men spoke out thickly : 

“ Ax’ den’, constable ? Yes, it’s all right. Hold him 
up. Smith. Wants to lie down, constable. Thinks 
snow is clean sheets.” 

“ Oh, that’s it, is it, sir ?” said John Whyley, ex- 
amining each face in turn a little suspiciously. 
“ Thought as it was a patient — ” 

“Yes,” saM the man with the moustache, speaking 
in a high-pitched voice, “doctor keeps some good 
stuff. Not all physic, policeman. Here, hold up.” 
This last to the man he was supporting, and upon 
whose head he now placed a soft felt hat, which he 
had held in his hand. 

“ Gent seems rather on, sir,” said John Whyley, 
going up more closely. 

‘ ‘ Ah ! ’ ’ said the flrst speaker, “ you smelt his breath. ” 

“’Nough to knock you down, sir,” said the con- 
stable. “He’ll want to come and see the doctor 
again to-morrow morning.” 

There was a very strong odor of spirits, and in the 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


7 


gloom it did not occur to tlie constable tha.t the two 
men who seemed most intoxicated were very bright- 
eyed, and yet ghastly pale. He merely drew back 
for the group to pass. 

“Got to take him far, sir?” 

“ Far ? No, constable. Let him lie down and go to 
sleep. Dishgusting thing man can’t come to see friend 
without getting drunk. Look at me — and Shmith.” 

“ Yes, sir ; you’re all right enough,” said the con- 
stable. “ Shall I lend you a hand ?” 

“No,” said the man with the moustache, “we’re 
all right ; get us a cab.” 

“Where, sir,?” said the constable, with a grin; 
don’t believe such a thing’s to be got, sir, a night like 
this. All gone home.” 

At that moment from out of the fog there was a 
sudden jolt and the whish of a whip. 

“ Hullo ?” shouted the policeman. 

“Hullo !” came back in a husky voice, as if spoken 
through layers of flannel, “ what street’s this ?” 

“Eamillies. Here’s a fare.” 

There was a muttering, then a bump, jolt, and jan- 
gle of a cab heard, and a huge figure slowly seemed 
to loom up out of the fog in a spectral way, leading 
a gigantic horse, beyond which was something dark. 

“What’s the row?” said the husky voice. 

“These gents want a cab.” 

“ Oh, but I can’t drive nowheres to-night. I drove 
right into one pub, and then nearly down two areas. 
Where do you want to go.” 

“John’s Hotel, Surrey Street, old man. Look 
sharp. Five bob.” 

“ Five what, sir ? Why, I wouldn’t stir a step under 
ten. I’m just going to get my old horse into the first 


8 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS, 


mews, shove on liis nosebag and then get inside and go 
to sleep. I can’t drive. I shall have to lead him.” 

“Give him ten,” said the man with the sharp voice. 

“ All right. Here, hold up, old man,” said the other. 
“Look sharp! See if ever I come out with him again.” 

“ Yes, don’t make a noise, or you’ll bring out the 
doctor,” said the other man, and the policeman went 
to the cab door. 

The cab evidently objected to the fare, for the door 
stuck, and only yielded at last with a rattle, and so sud- 
denly that John Why ley nearly went on his back; 
but he recovered himself, and held his light so that 
the utterly helpless man, who seemed as if composed 
of jelly, was pulled by one of his companions, thrust 
by the other, into the cab, and forced up on the back 
seat. 

“ There y’are, const’ble,” said the man with the 
thick voice, “ there’s something to get glass ; but 
don’t take too much — like that chap — my deares’ 
Men’, it’s s’prising ain’t it? Tell cabman John’s 
Hotel.” 

“All right, sir, he knows. Go ahead, cabby.” 

He took a few slow steps towards where the cab- 
man stood by the horse’s head. 

“ Think they’re all right ?” said the cabman, in a 
husky wisper. 

“Give me half-a-crown,” said John Whyley. 

“ Did they? Wish I’d stood out for a sov.” 

As he spoke he started his horse slowly, and the 
cab went by the constable, whose lamp showed the 
interior very indistinctly, the cab window being 
drawn up, and then the sight and sound of the vehi- 
cle died out in the fog, and all was once more still. 

“ 111 wind as blows no one any good I” said the con- 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


9 


stable, slowly continuing bis beat. “ Kather have my 
half-crown than their sick headaches in the morning. 
Bather rum that no one came out with all that talking. ” 

John Whyley hummed a tune and tried two or three 
front doors and area gates, and then he took off his 
helmet and scratched his head as if puzzled. 

“Now, have I done right?” he said suddenly. 
“ Seemed to be square. Smelt of drink horrid. Other 
two ’peared to be on all but once or twice. I say ! 
Was it acting?” 

He gave his helmet a sharp blow with his doubled 
fist, stuck it on tightly, and took a few quick steps in 
the direction in which the cab had moved off.” 

“Tchah!” he ejaculated, stopping short; “that’s 
the worst o’ my trade; makes a man suspicious of 
everything and everybody. Why, I nearly accused the 
missus of picking my pockets of that sixpence I forgot 
I spent with a mate. It’s all right. They were as 
tight as tight. Ugh ! What a night.” 

John Whyley’s beat took him in another direction, 
but something — a feeling of dissatisfaction with his 
late act, or the suspicion engendered by his calling — 
made him turn back and go slowly to the doctor’s 
door. 

All was perfectly still ; the red lamp burned over 
the principal door, while over the surgery door the 
three last letters were more indistinct than ever, and 
“Surg” somehow looked like a portion of “Eesur- 
gam ” on a memorial stone. 

John Whyley went close up to the latter door, and 
listened. All was still. 

He hesitated a few moments, and then tapped and 
listened again, when there seemed to be a slight rust- 
ling sound within, but he could not be sure. 


10 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


Turning on his light, there, beside him, was a bell- 
pull with the hole half-filled with snow. 

“Shall I?” he said, hesitating. “People don’t 
like being called up for a cock-and-bull story, and what 
have I got to say ? These gents came away tight.” 

He paused and removed his helmet for another re- 
freshing scratch. 

“Was it acting? I’ve heerd a chap on the stage 
drawl just like that one with the thick voice. Now, 
stop a moment. Let’s argufy. Couldn’t be burglary. 
Yes, it could — ^body burglary !” 

John Whyley grew excited as a strange train of 
thought ran through his head in connection with 
what he had heard tell about surgeons and their in- 
vestigations, and purchases delivered in the dead of 
night. 

“ I don’t care,” he said ; “ wrong or right, I wish I 
hadn’t let that cab go, and I’ll get to the bottom of it 
before I’ve done.” 

It might have been connected with visions of 
another possible half-crown, or it might have been in 
an honest desire to do his duty as a guardian of the 
public safety. At any rate, J ohn Whyley gave a vig- 
orous tug at Dr. Chartley’s night-bell and waited. 

“No answer; that’s a suspicious fact,” he said to 
himself ; and he rang again, listened, waited, and 
rang again. 

Hardly had the wire ceased to grate, when a curi- 
ous whispering voice, close to his ear, said “ What is 
it?” so strangely that John, who had only been a year 
in London, bounded back into the snow, and half 
drew his truncheon. 

“ What is it ? Who’s there ?” came then. 

“ What a fool I am ! Speaking trumpet !” mut- 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


11 


tered the man, and directing his light toward the door- 
post he saw a raised patch of snow, which upon being 
removed displayed a hole. 

To this, full of confidence now, John Why ley ap- 
plied his lips. 

“Police !” he said. “Anything wrong?” 

There was a pause, and then the same strange 
voice came again. 

“ Wait. I’ll come down.” 

Waiting was cold work, and John Whyley took a 
trot up, and was returning when he saw a dim light 
shine through the long glazed slits at the sides of the 
principal door, and directly after he heard a click as 
if a candlestick were set down on a marble slab, and 
one of the narrow windows showed a human shape 
in a misty way. 

The bull’s-eye was turned on, and, after the momen- 
tary glimpse of a face, the rattling of a chain was heard^ 
and the front door was opened a few inches to reveal 
a pale, haggard, but very handsome face, with large 
lustrous eyes, which looked dilated and strange. 

“ I did not understand you, policeman. Is any- 
thing the matter ?” 

“ Well, Miss, that’s for you to say ;” and he related 
what he had seen. 

“ It is very strange. My father’s door is locked, 
and there is no light.” 

“Yes, Miss — one over the door.” 

“ Yes, but that only shines into the surgery. My 
brother has not come back.” 

“But the doctor had company. Miss : that gentle- 
man who had taken too much.” 

“ Oh, no ; impossible.” 

“ Then I have been done !” cried the man, striking 


12 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


his left hand a blow with his fist, as if to clinch the 
thought which had been troubling him. 

“I don’t understand you.” 

“ Well, Miss, I’m afraid there’s something wrong. 
But the doctor?” 

“ He is not in his room.” 

“But how about the speaking trumpet?” 

“ I heard the night bell. He is not in his chamber, 
and the passage door is locked. Perhaps — ” a few 
moments’ pause ; then in a firm decided tone, “ Yes 
you had better come in.” 

The door was closed, so that the chain could be 
unfastened; and as the door was being reopened, J ohn 
Why ley pulled himself together,and cleared his throat. 

“ Don’t be alarmed. Miss,” he said, as he stood in the 
large blank hall, and rubbed his shoes upon a very 
old mat. “I dont like scaring you but its better to 
make sure than to let anything go wrong. That’s 
partly, you see, Miss, what we’re for.” 

“ Yes, yes; but come at once to the surgery.” 

“One minute. Miss,” said the constable, examining 
carefully the handsome frightened face, and noting 
that its owner was tall, graceful, rather dark, and 
about three or four and twenty, while though her hair 
was in disorder as if from lying down, the lady was 
fully dressed. 

“ What do you want ?” she said, with the wild look 
in her eyes intensifying. 

“To do everything in order. Miss. First, who 
lives here ?” 

“My father. Dr. Chartley.” 

“ Who else on the premises ?” 

“ The servant-girl. Our boy. My brother, a medi- 


THE BAa OF DIAMONDS. 13 

cal student, lives here, but he has not yet returned. 
He is at a friend’s house — a little party.” 

“ And you’ve had a party here, Miss ?” 

“ Oh, no ; we never have company.” 

“That’ll do. Miss. Now for the surgery. One 
moment : your name, please ?” 

“Eichmond Chartley.” 

“ That’ll do. Eum ^hame,” he muttered ; and fol- 
lowing the lady, who led the way with a chamber 
candlestick in past the open door of agloomy-looking 
dining-room, constable John Whyley found himself 
at the end of a passage to the left, in front of a half- 
glass door, whose panes were covered on the other 
side by a thick dark blind. 

“ My father’s surgery,” said the lady in answer to 
an inquiring look. 

The constable nodded, and tried the door twice 
before kneeling down and holding his light to the key- 
hole. 

“ Key in,” he said gruffly, “ locked inside. Who’s 
likely to be here ?” 

“My father. He always sits in the consulting- 
room beyond at night — studying.” 

Another short nod, and the constable rapped loudly. 

No response. 

He rapped again, with the same result. Then he 
drew a long breath, and the man showed that he pos- 
sessed feeling as well as decision. 

“ I don’t want to alarm you. Miss, but I ought to 
force open this door.” 

“ But you do alarm me, man. Yes, you are right, 
No ! let me come.” 

She rapped smartly on the door. 

“ Father ! Father 1 Are you here ?” 


14 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


Still no reply; and she drew back, looking wildly in 
the constable’s eyes, while her hands seemed as if 
drawn together to clasp each other and check the 
nervous trembling and be of mutual support. 

“Yes,” she said, “force it open. Stop! break one 
of the panes.” 

The constable leaned his shoulder against the pane 
nearest the lock, and there was a sharp crackling noise, 
the splintered glass being caught by the blind inside; 
but as the man thrust his hand through the great hole 
he had made, to draw the blind on one side, a frag- 
ment or two fell, making a musical tinkling. 

The man’s next act was to take his lantern from his 
belt, and pass it through, directing the light in all di- 
rections, as he peered through the glass above, and 
then he withdrew the light with a low “Ha !” 

“ What can you see ?” 

“ Hold hard, please. Miss, and keep back. This 
isn’t ladies work. I want some help here.” 

“ Then something has happened ?” 

“ Well, Miss, seeing what I did see to-night, it may 
be nothing worse than a drop too much, but it looks 

ugly!” 

“Who is it? My father?” 

“ Can’t say. Miss. Elderly gent with bald head.” 

“ Oh, what you say is possible ! Quick 1 burst open 
the door I” 

The constable placed his shoulder to the door, but 
drew back with an angry gesture. 

“Of course!” he muttered, and thrusting his arm 
through, he reached the lock, turned the key, and the 
door swung open with a dismal creak. 

“Now, Miss, I’ll see first, and come back and tell you.” 

“ Man ! do you think I am a child?” was the sharp 


THE BAH OP DIAMONDS. 


15 


reply ; and rushing by him, the speaker passed into 
the room, and went down upon her knees directly 
beside a figure in a shabby old dressing-gown, lying 
face downward on the floor, 

“Is he—’’ 

“ Quick ! turn on that gas.” 

The constable took a step to obey, and kicked 
against something which rattled as it flew forward, 
and struck the wainscot board, while the next mo- 
ment a dim, blue spark of light in a ground-glass 
burst into a flame, and lit up a dingy-looking, old- 
fashioned surgery just as the kneeling girl uttered a 
piteous cry. 

“ That’s enough,” muttered the constable, stooping 
and picking up the object he had kicked against — a 
short whalebone-handled life-preserver, and slipping 
it into his pocket. “ Tells tales. Now, Miss,” he con- 
tinued aloud, bending over the prostrate figure. 
“Hah ! yes ! I thought as much.” 

It was plain enough. A slight thread of blood was 
trickling slowly from a spot on the smooth glistening 
bald head of the prostrate man, while as, with a moan 
of anguish, the girl thrust her arm softly beneath his 
neck, and raised the head, the mark of another blow 
was visible above the temple. 

“ Now, Miss, I can’t leave you like this. Let me stay 
while you go for help. We must have some one here.” 

These words seemed to rouse the girl into fierce 
action, and she gently supported the wounded head, 
her hand sought the injured man’s wrist, and seized 
it in a professional way. 

“ Man,” she cried with angry energy, “ while we are 
seeking help he may — Yes ; still beating. Quick ! 
Open that door. No, no ; that’s the way into the 


16 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


street ! The other door — the consulting-room. Prop 
it open with a chair. We must get him on to the 
sofa, and do something at once.” 

‘‘Yes, Miss ; but a doctor.” 

“ I am a doctor’s daughter, man, and know what 
to do. Quick !” 

“Well, of all — ” muttered the constable, as he pro- 
ceeded to the door in question ; and then, without 
finishing the sentence, “Well, she is a plucked one!” 

He stepped into a shabbily furnished room, in 
whose grate a fire was just aglow ; and as the door 
swung to, and he cast the light round to seek for a 
chair, he caught sight of a vacant couch, a table with 
bottle, glasses, and sugar thereon, and the cover 
drawn all on one side, so that the glasses were with- 
in an ace of being off ; and then, drawing in his breath, 
he stepped to the other side of the table, and held 
down the light, which fell upon a drawn and ghastly 
face, while, hidden by the table cover, there lay the 
figure of a well-dressed man. 

“ Fit,” muttered the constable, bending lower. “ No; 
I ain’t a doctor, but I know what that means.” 

He stepped back quickly,and shut the door after him. 

“No, no ! prop it open.” 

“ Let it be. Miss, he replied sternly. “ There’s 
something else wrong there.” 

The girl stared up at him aghast. 

“ Here’s a sofy will do,” he continued, pointing to 
a kind of settee, cushioned, and with a common 
moreen valance hanging down, while a rough kind of 
pillow was fastened to one end. “ You get up. Miss, 
and lift a bit. I won’t hurt him more than I can help. 
That’s it. Sorry, Miss, I thought what I did.” 

A low moan escaped the sufferer as he was lifted 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 17 

with difficulty upon the rough settee, and this being 
done, the constable renewed his request. 

“ Now, Miss, it’s a thing as wants doing at once. 
Call help.” 

“ Hold up his head,” was the quick imperious re- 
ply; and as the man obeyed, he saw to his surprise the 
girl go quickly to the row of shelves at one side of the 
room, take down a labelled bottle, remove the stop- 
per, and pour some of its contents into a graduated 
glass. To this she added a portion of the contents of 
another bottle, taking them down, replacing stoppers, 
and proceeding in the most matter-of-fact, business- 
like way, as if accustomed to the task, and returning 
to try and trickle a little fluid between the patient’s 
lips, supplementing it by bathing his temples. 

This done, she ran to a drawer, to return with a roll 
and scissors ; then getting sponge, water, and basin, 
and proceeding deftly to bathe and strap up the bleed- 
ing wound, before turning to her assistant, who looked 
dim, as the fog seemed to have filtered into the room. 

“ Now,” she said sharply, “ is there some one in- 
jured in that room ?” 

Yes, Miss ; but stop. I will have help now” said 
the constable hoarsely. “ You shan’t go in there !” 

At that moment, as the man stepped before the con- 
sulting-room door, there was the quick rattle of a 
latch-key heard faintly from the front door, and as 
the opening door affected that of the surgery, and 
made it swing slightly and creak, the girl ran to it. 

“ Here, Hendon ! quick !” 

There was a heavy step in the passage, and a 
young man, who looked flushed, hurried into the 
surgery, hat in hand, his ulster over his arm, 


18 


THE BAG OP DIAMONDS. 


“ What’s the matter?” he said thickly. The con- 
stable directed at him a sharp glance. 

“I don’t know. Look! My father attacked, and 
— Oh I Hendon, pray, pray see I” 

The young man had evidently been drinking, and 
the suddenness of this encounter seemed for a mo- 
ment to confuse him ; but as he caught sight of the 
injured doctor, the policeman peering at him with a 
sternly inquiring look, and the tall, handsome girl, 
with wild eyes and parted lips, pointing towards the 
consulting-room door, he threw back his head, gave 
it a shake as if to clear it, and spoke more clearly. 

“Accident?” he said. “Look?” 

“Yes, for pity’s sake, look.” 

He strode to the consulting-room door, stepped in 
and was turning to come back, but the policeman 
was following. 

“What is it?” he said. “Hero 1 a light.” 

He snatched the lantern from the constable’s hand, 
and the light fell directly upon the face of the pros- 
trate figure beyond the table. 

“ Who’s this ? ” he said, going down on one knee. 
“ Why, constable, what’s up ? This man is dead 1 ” 

“ Yes, sir, I see that.” 

“ Yes, quite dead. But what does it mean ? Has 
my sister — ” 

“Seen him? No, sir, I wouldn’t let her come. 
Now, then, as you’re here. I’ll go for a doctor and 
some of our men.” 

“ One minute. I’m a medical student — bit thick, 
constable — been at a party — but I know what I’m 
doing. Yes, this man’s dead — shot, I think. But 
my father ? Here, come back. That poor girl must 
be half wild.” 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS, 


19 


He ran back into the surgery, 

“ Here, Eich, my girl, this is a terrible business. 
Yes, yes,” he added, slowly examining what his sister 
had done, and then drawing in his breath, as he 
passed his hand over the smooth bald head. How 
did it happen ? ” 

“ I — I don’t know,” gasped the girl, wildly ; and now 
that the burden was partly shifted from her shoulders, 
her feminine nature began to reassert itself, and she 
uttered a low wail. 

“ But — here, constable, how did this come about?” 

The man explained in a few words, all the time 
gazing searchingly at the inquirer, but shaking his 
head to himself, as if feeling that the suspicions he 
harbored were wrong. 

“ And now, sir, I must have some one in,” said the 
man in conclusion. 

Yes; of course, of course. But my father? We 
cannot leave him like that. To take him up to his 
bedroom would not be wise, and we cannot — here, 
Eich, I say, where are you ? Constable, help me 
carry out this sofa.” 

John Whyley followed, and the comfortable couch 
was carried from its neighborhood by the ghastl}^ 
figure lying beyond the table, into the surgery, placed 
close to the wall, and the wounded man carefully 
placed upon it in an easier position. 

Now, sir, just one look round,” said the con- 
stable, as Eichmond knelt down, weeping silently by 
herfather’s side, "‘and then I’m off. Got this, sir.” 

He drew out the life-preserver, and showed it to 
the young student before going into the consulting- 
room, and after a glance round, kneeling by the dead 
man to make a rapid search of his pockets. 


20 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


“ Surely this is not necessary now ?” 

“ Yes, sir, it is. One of the first questions my ser- 
geant will ask me will be about recognitions. That 
will do, sir. Not a scrap of anything about him after a 
sooperficial search. Now the other place.” 

He returned to the surgery, looked round, peered 
into a closet, and then examined the door. 

“No signs of violence,” he said ; and then the settee 
caught his attention, and he advanced cautiously, drew 
up the valance, but only to reveal that it was a great 
chest, and had not harbor beneath for concealment of 
person or article connected with the case. “ Chest, 
eh ?” he said ; and placing his hand to the cushion, he 
found that it was fastened to the great lid, which he 
raised with one hand, and directed the light into it 
with the other ; but before it was open many inches 
he banged it down and started away as if horrified. 

“Bah, man! scared by a few bones. Articulations, 
and preparations used in surgical lectures.” 

“ Yes, I see,” said the man, recovering himself, “but 
coming upon ’em sudden like, they looked rather hor- 
rid. Now, sir, I’m off. I shall send on the first of our 
men I see, and come back with the doctor. One two 
streets off, ain’t there ? if I can find him in the fog.” 

“Yes; Mr. Clayton Bell. Be quick.” 

The man hurried off, and in a remarkably short time, 
or so it seemed to the brother and sister, who were 
conversing in whispers as they strove to restore the 
unconscious man to consciousness, there was a ring 
at the bell, and the constable had returned with a 
grave, portly-looking surgeon and a sergeant of police- 

“ Yes,” said the newcomer, after a careful examina- 
tion, “ two heavy blows, given, I should say, the first 
from behind, the second as Dr. Chartley was turning 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


21 


round. As you surmised, Mr. Chartley, tlie skull is 
fractured, and there is a severe pressure upon the 
brain. And the other case ? ” 

The surgeon was led into the next room, where a 
long and careful examination was made. 

“ No, Mr. Chartley, no firearms here ; the man has 
been poisoned.” 

“ Poisoned !” cried Hendon Chartley, turning to the 
table, and taking up one of the glasses to raise it to 
his nose, and then touch the liquid in the bottom 
with the tip of his finger and taste it. “ Brandy,” he 
said. “ only pure brandy.” 

He set it down, and took up the second glass, 
which he smelt. 

“ Ha I there’s something here,” he cried ; and dip- 
ping his finger again, he tasted it, and spat quickly 
two or three times, before passing the glass to the sur- 
geon, who contented himself with raising it to his 
nostrils. 

“ Yes; Mr. Chartley ; no doubt about that,” he said. 
“ How did all this come about?” 

He turned to the young student, who looked at the 
sergeant, and the sergeant at John Why ley, while the 
latter stared stolidly at the surgeon. 

“ That’s what we’re going to see, sir,” said Whyley^ 

“Quite right, my man, quite right. Now, Mr. 
Chartley, I can do no more here. I should like to 
have in a colleague in consultation over your father’s 
case. Nothing more can be done now. We will be 
here quite early.” 

He gave a few directions as he passed through the 
consulting-room, and then son and daughter were 
left to their painful vigil, and the thick fog covered 
all as with a funeral pall. 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


CHAPTEE II. 

GOING BACKWAEDS. 

Breakfast-time in the dull dining-room, with its som- 
bre old furniture, carpet dotted with holes worn by the 
legs of chairs, and the drab-painted panelled walls, 
made cheerful by a set of engravings in tarnished 
gilt, fly-specked frames of the princes of the blood 
royal : H. E. H. the Prince Eegent, with his brothers 
the Dukes of York, Clarence, Kent, Cumberland, Sus- 
sex, and Cambridge, each with a little square tasselled 
pillow at the top of the frame, and, reposing, thereon, 
a very shabby coronet ; while the two windows, with 
their faded curtains, looked across a row of rusty 
spikes at a prospect composed of a gaunt old house, 
evidently let in lodgings. 

Eichmond Chartley, looking as charming as a hand- 
some girl will look, in spite of a line of care upon her 
forehead and a twitch of anxiety upon the corners of 
her lips, was distributing coffee, and alternating the 
task by cutting bread-and-butter — thin-thick for her 
brother Hendon, who was reading a sporting paper, 
and thin-thin for Dr. Chartley, who was gazing in an 
abstracted manner at a paper before him, and making 
notes from time to time with a gilt pencil-case. 

He was a bland-looking, handsome man, with stiff 
white cravat, and that suave, softly-smiling aspect 
peculiar to fashionable physicians ; but the fashion 
had gone, though the smile remained, to be shed 
upon his two children instead of upon the patients 
who came no more. 

The breakfast progressed, Avith HendoB' eagerly 
taking in the details of the last Australian boat-race, 
and the doctor making a calculation for the variation 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


23 


of the compound that was the dream of his life, till, as 
it was finally ended, he bent forward, and said softly, 

“ Truly thankful, amen ! ” 

Hendon Chartley rustled his paper, and doubled it 
up, and thrust it into his pocket. 

‘‘ But no fried bacon,” he said bitterly. 

Dr. Chartley turned his beams upon his son, and 
shook his head slowly. 

“Indigestible, Hendon. But never mind. Work 
as I do. Get to the top of the tree, and then you can 
keep your carriage, and destroy your liver with 
Strasburg pie.” 

“ Bah !” said Hendon ; but his father’s counte- 
nance did not change. 

“ Going to the hospital, my boy?” 

“Yes, the old dismal round.” 

“But to allay suffering. A great profession.” 

“ Wish it had less profession and more solid satis- 
faction !” said the young man. “ Good-by, Rich.” 

He hurried out of the room, and the next minute 
the door was heard to bang. 

“ An ornament to the profession some day, 
Richmond.” 

“Yes, dear, but — ” 

“Well, my love?” said the doctor, beaming upon 
her softly. 

“ Don’t think me unkind, dear, now you are so deep 
in your study; but I do really want a little help.” 

“Certainly, my darling, certainly. Now, that’s 
what I like; frank confidence on your part. You are 
the best of housekeepers, my child ; but I don’t want 
you to take all the burden on your shoulders.” 

Richmond Chartley sighed, and the line on her 
broad handsome forehead took to itself so many 


24 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


puckers, which, however, did not detract from her 
beauty. 

‘‘ Well, my dear; speak out. You want something?” 

“ Yes, father ; money.” 

“ Ah !” said Dr. Chartley softly, as he tapped the 
table with the top of his worn pencil-case. “ Money; 
you want money.” 

“ Yes, father. I am horribly pressed. Poor Hendon 
has really not enough to pay for his lunch, and — ” 

“Yes, my dear; but Hendon will soon be in a 
position to provide comfortably for himself,” said the 
doctor blandly. 

The old proverb about the growing grass and the 
starving steed occurred to Eichmond, but she only 
sighed. 

“I don’t think you need trouble yourself about 
Hendon, my dear.” 

“ But there is the rent, father,” said Eichmond 
desperately, as the full extent of their position flashed 
upon her; and she felt impelled to speak. 

“Ah, yes; the rent. I had forgotten the rent,” 
said the doctor dreamily. 

“Final and threatening notices have been left 
about the rates and taxes.” 

“ Yes,” said the doctor musingly. “ The idea is 
Utopian, but I have often thought how pleasant life 
would be were there no rents or rates and taxes.” 

“Dear father, I must tell you all my troubles now 
I have begun,” said Eichmond, leaving her chair to 
kneel down before the handsome elderly man, and lay 
her hand upon his breast. 

“ Certainly, my darling, certainly,” he said, bend- 
ing down to kiss her brow in the most gentlemanly 
manner, and then caress her luxuriant hair. 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


25 


“ They have threatened to cut off both the gas and 
water.” 

‘‘ Tut ! tut ! how unreasonable, Bichmond ! Beally 
a severe letter ought to be addressed to the con- 
panies’ directors.” 

“ And, father dear, the tradespeople are growing 
not only impatient, but absolutely insulting. What 
am I to do?” 

“ Wait, my darling, wait. Little clouds in our ex- 
istence while we are attending the breaking forth of 
the sun. Not long, my dear. I am progressing 
rapidly with my discovery, and while I shall be con- 
tent with the fame, you shall be my dear banker, 
and manage everything as you do now.” 

“ Yes, yes, dear, Iwill; but it is so sad. No patients 
seem to come to you now.” 

“ No, my dear, no,” he replied calmly; “ I’m afraid 
I neglected several, and they talked about it among 
themselves. These things will spread.” 

“Are there any means left of — pray forgive me, 
dear — of raising a little money?” 

“ No, my dear, I think not. But don’t trouble 
about it. Any day now I may have my discovery 
complete, and then — but really, my dear, this is wast- 
ing time. I must get on with my work.” 

He rose, and Bichmond sighed as with courtly 
grace he raised her hand and kissed it, smiling at 
her sadly and shaking his head. 

“ So like your dear mother,” he said; “even to the 
tones of your voice. Don’t let me be disturbed, 
Bichmond. I am getting to a critical point.” 

He slowly crossed the room, gazing dreamily before 
him, and passed out, while his child stood listening 
to his step along the passage at the back of the side- 


26 


THE BAG OE DIAMONDS. 


board till the door of the surgery was heard to close, 
when, clasping her hands, she gazed up at the Prince 
Pegent, as if he were some kind of a fat idol, and 
exclaimed passionately, 

What shall I do ? what shall I do ?” 

A violent twitch made her raise her hand to her 
face, which was contracted with pain, and she drew 
her breath hard; but the pang seemed to pass away, 
and after ringing the bell she began busily to pack 
the breakfast-things together. 

Before she had half done, the door opened softly, 
and a rather dirty face was thrust in. It was the face 
of an old-looking boy with snub-nose, large mouth, 
and a rough, shock head bristling over his prominent 
forehead, and all redeemed by as bright and roguish- 
looking a pair of eyes as ever shone out from beneath 
a low type of head. 

The door was only opened wide enough at first to 
admit the head, but as soon as its owner had given a 
glance round, the door opened farther, and the rest 
of a rather small person appeared, dressed in a well- 
worn page’s button suit, partly hidden by a dirty 
green-baize bibbed apron. 

The boy’s sleeves were tucked up, and he was 
carrying a pair of old-fashioned Wellington boots by 
the tops, and these boots he held up on high. 

“Didn’t know, Miss, whether the doctor had gone. 
Been a-cleaning his boots. Look, Miss, there’s a 
shine !” 

“ Yes, yes. Bob, they look very nice. Take them 
up-stairs, and then come and clear away.” 

“All right. Miss. I made a whole bottle o’ blacking 
outer half a cake as a chap I knows give me. ” 

“Yes, yes. Bob.” 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


27 


“ Stunning blacking it is, too. He’s in the Brigade, 
and I minded his box for him, and took sixpence while 
he went and had a game of marbles. That’s why he 
give me the cake.” 

“ Now, Bob, my good lad, I don’t want to know any- 
thing about that. Take those boots up-stairs.” 

“ All right. Miss; but do look how they shines. I 
polished tops and all. Look, Miss.” 

“Yes, yes, yes; they are beautifully clean.” 

“ I alius thinks about legs. Miss, when I cleans 
boots; and when I thinks about legs, I think about 
the doctor making such a good job o’ mine arter I 
was run over. It’s stronger than the other; I am 
glad as it was broke.” 

“ Glad?” 

“ Yes, Miss. Why, if I hadn’t been run over, my 
leg wouldn’t have been broke, and then the doctor 
wouldn’t have mended it, and I shouldn’t be here. 
What’s she gone away for?” said the boy to him- 
self, as he stared after Eichmond. “ She’s been a-cry- 
ing; one of her eyes was wet. What coward gals are 
to cry !” 

The boy went to the door and listened, but all was 
perfectly still; so he set down the boots, rolled his 
apron into what he called a cow’s tail, the process 
consisting in twisting it up very tightly and tucking 
it round his waist. 

This done he listened again, and finding all still, he 
thrust his arms into the doctor’s boots and indulged 
in a hearty laugh of a silently weird description be- 
fore going down on all fours, and walking as slowly 
and solemnly round the table as a tom cat, whose 
movements he accurately copied, rubbing himself up 
against the legs of the table, and purring loudly. 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 




This over, he rose to his feet and listened, but all 
being still; he went down upon all fours again and 
trotted round the table, leaped on to a chair, leaped 
down again, and ran out of the room and along the 
dark passage towards the head of the kitchen stairs, 
looking in the gloom wonderfully like some large ape. 

Active as he was, a descent of the dark stone stairs 
on all fours was beyond him; so he rose up, and 
reaching over, glided silently down the balustrade, 
to the great detriment of his buttons. But, arrived 
upon the mat at the bottom, he once more resumed 
his quadrupedal attitude, thrust his hands well into 
the Wellington boots, and trotted with a soft patter 
into a dark back kitchen, out of which came a dron- 
ing noise uttered by some one at work, and appar- 
ently under the impression that it was a song. 

The boy, more animal-like than ever, disappeared 
in the gloom, with the boots making a low pat-pat^ 
pat-pat j and then there was a loud shriek, and Bob 
bounded out, skimmed up the stairs, after evidently 
having alarmed some one, and disappeared with the 
boots, which he sedately carried up to the bedroom. 
Then descended, to listen at the head of the stairs to 
a complaining voice relating to Bichmond Chartley 
an account of how an “ ormuz ” great dog had come 
down the area, run into the back kitchen, and frighted 
some one almost out of her wits ! 

Bob’s face expressed happiness approaching the 
sublime, and he hurriedly cleared the breakfast- 
things, and took them down in time to be sent down 
by a not over clean-looking maid-of-all-work to 
shut that there gate. 

The boy was in the act of performing this duty when 
a neatly-dressed girlish-looking body approached. 


THE BAG OP DIAMONDS. 


29 


carrying a large folio under one arm— a folio so broad 
that the neatly-mended and well-fitting little glove 
which covered a very small hand could hardly reach 
to the bottom. 

“ Is your mistress in ?” 

“ Yes, Miss,” said Bob, whose face seemed to reflect 
the sweet, sunny smile which greeted him. “ I’ll 
slip round and let you in.” 

“Oh!” 

This was the utterance of the new arrival, as she 
saw the boy apparently hurl himself over the iron 
balustrade of the area-steps, and plunge into the 
dusthole region beyond. But Bob had long practised 
the keeping of his equilibrium as the polished state of 
the iron rail proved, and, instead of dashing out his 
brains on the stones, he reached the bottom with a 
bound, and diving into the house, reappeared in a mar- 
velously short space of time at the front door. 

“ She’s in the dining-room. Miss,” said Bob, making 
a rush at the folio, and feasting his eyes the while on 
the natty fur-trimmed jacket and little furry hat, 
whose hue harmonized admirably with the wavy dark 
brown hair, neatly braided up beneath; for the visitor 
was remarkably well dressed, and her fresh young 
face set off everything so well that no one thought 
of noticing that the dress had been turned, and that 
the jacket’s rough exterior had certainly last winter 
been upon the other side. 

Bob hurriedly closed the door, and ran into the 
chilly dining-room with the folio, which he banged 
down on the table with — 

“ Here’s Miss Heath, Miss;” and then darted out 
of the room, leaving the two girls face to face. 

“They don’t like me to see ’em cuddling,” he said 


30 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


with a grin; and, urged bj the enormous amount of 
vitality that was in him, Bob bounded to the kitchen 
stairs to slide down, and directly after a gritty rub- 
bing noise, made metrical to accompany the shrill 
whistling of a tune, arose, the result of the fact that 
Bob Hartnup, the doctor’s boy, who clung to the 
house with the fidelity of a cat, was cleaning the knives. 

Bob’s facts were correct, if unrefined in expression, 
for the two girls flew to each other’s arms, and as they 
kissed affectionately, each displayed tears in her eyes, 
while without relinquishing hands, they sat down to- 
gether near the window. 

“ No news, Janet ?” whispered Richmond. 

Her visitor shook her head slowly, gazing wist- 
fully the while into her companion’s eyes. 

“We must wait Rich dear. Africa is a horribly 
great place, and some day we shall hear that he is 
coming back.” 

Richmond Chartley made no reply, but sat gazing 
straight out through the uncleaned window, as if her 
large clear eyes were looking straight away over the 
ocean in search of the man she loved. 

“ Don’t, don’t, darling; don’t look like that,” whis- 
pered the younger girl. “ Don’t think all that again. 
It’s cruel, it’s wicked of them to have said such things. 
He was too young, and strong, and brave to die. 

“Please God, yes !” said Richmond simply, but 
with a deep heart-stirring pathos in the tones of her 
rich voice. 

“And one of these days he’ll come, dear, like the 
good prince in the fairy tale, all rich and handsome, 
as my darling brother always was, and marry my own 
dear Rich, and make her happy again.” 

“ Please God, yes !’ said Richmond once more; and 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


31 


tliis time there was resignation, and despair so plainly 
marked that her companion flung her arms about her 
neck and began ,to sob. 

Rich, dear Rich, don’t, pray don’t, or you’ll drive 
me half mad. I’ve all my lessons to give to-day, and 
my hand will tremble, and I shall be so unnerved 
that I can do nothing.” 

“Janet dear, I try so hard not to despair, but the 
weary months roll by, and it is two years now since 
you have had a line.” 

^ ‘ Yes, but what of that ? Perhaps he is where there 
are no post-offices, or perhaps he is not getting on; 
and, poor boy, he is too proud to write till he is doing 
better. Why, he has only been away four years.” 

“ Four years !” said Richmond sadly; “ is it only 
four years ?” 

“That’s all, dear, though it has seemed like eight, 
and we will not despair, even though it is so hard to 
bear. Why, Rich, I feel sometimes when I kneel 
down at night that if he were dead I should know 
it; he would not let us go on suffering if it were so.” 

“ Janet dear, I feel sometimes as if it was wrong 
to have loved him.” 

“What, dear Mark?” 

“Yes.” 

“Wrong? For shame ! How could any girl who 
knew my darling old Mark as you did help loving him ?” 

“ But it made him dissatisfied. I was the cause of 
his going away.” 

“ That foolish thought again ! You were not, dear. 
It would have been the same if he had loved any girl. 
He said that he would not ask any woman to be his 
wife while he was tied down here without any pros- 
pects; and he went ofl* to make his fortune, as 


32 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


many another brave young Englishman has gone 
before.” 

“ But I made him discontented, dear.” 

“ You made him behave nobly. Why, what other 
man would have said as he did, ‘ I hold you to no 
engagement, I ask nothing of you: I only tell you 
that I love you with all my heart ’ ?” 

“‘And some day I will return,’ ” said Bichmond, 
in a low deep voice. 

“Yes, and some day he will return, dear: I'do be- 
lieve it, I will believe it, and — Oh, Rich, Rich, 
Rich, why, why are we such unhappy girls ?” 

It was the elder’s turn now to try and comfort the 
younger, who had burst into a passionate fit of weep- 
ing, so full of anguish that, at last, Richmond raised 
her friend’s face, kissed it, and holding the bonny 
little head between her hands, she said, with almost 
motherly tenderness. 

“ Janet, Hendon has been speaking to you again ?” 

There was no reply. 

“ I knew it,” said Richmond half angrily. “ It was 
thoughtless and cruel of him !” 

“No, no, don’t blame him, dear. No one could be 
more noble and more good. You. know how hard he 
works.” 

“ Yes,” said Richmond, with a sigh. 

“And if he is impatient with his home and your 
father, why, you must recollect that he is a man, and 
men are not meant to be patient and suffering like 
women.” 

“He is too thoughtless, Janet, and — I don’t like 
to say it of my own brother — too selfish.” 

“No, no!” cried Janet, flushing. 

“Yes, dear, yes. Could he have had his way, you 


THE BAG OP DIAMONDS. 


33 


two would have been man and wife, and he half living 
on the earnings of these poor tiny little hands.” 

“ I don't think he would have pressed me to it, Rich; 
and after all, it was because he loved me so.” 

“ Yes, and would have taken advantage of your 
loneliness here in this great cruel city, and dragged 
you down to poverty and misery such as I am bearing 
now. J anet, J anet dear, I feel sometimes as if I can- 
not bear this miserable degradation longer, and that 
all these troubles must be a punishment for my not 
telling my father about Mark.” 

“Why, Rich,” said Janet, turning comforter once 
more, “ what was there to tell ? You made no engage- 
ment. And look here, if so much trouble is to come of 
love, why, you and I will take vows, and be single all 
our days. There, now, you look more like yourself; 
and I’m going to tell you my news.” 

“News?” cried Richmond, starting eagerly, and 
then looking sadly at her friend. 

“Yes, two more pupils. I’m getting along fam- 
ously now. And it does itiake me so happy and re- 
signed. There, I must go, but — ” 

“You have something more to say to me?” 

“ Yes, only— there, I will be firm. Don’t be angry 
with me. Rich dear, for I seem to have no one to care 
for here but you, and some day you shall pay me 
again, and I want you to borrow this.” 

She slipped a tiny little purse into Richmond’s 
hands, and then turned scarlet, as she saw her com- 
panion’s pallid face. 

“No, no, Janet, I could not: your little scraped to- 
gether earnings. Pray don’t speak to me like that 
again.” 

“ I must, I will !” cried the girl, with passionate 


34 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


earnestness. “ I don’t want it, dear, and it is only a 
loan. Do, do, pray take it.” 

“I could not,” said Richmond, thrusting the purse 
into her friend’s hand. 

“ For Mark’s sake, dear.” 

“ For Mark’s sake !” faltered Richmond hoarsely. 

“ Yes; how could I look him in the face again, if I 
had not behaved to you as he bade me when we said 
good-by on board the ship ?” 

“ As he bade you ?” 

“ Yes; .to be as a sister to you always, and to look 
to you as a sister for help and comfort when I was 
in need. Yes, dear, for Mark’s sake.” 

For answer, Richmond Chartley took her friend 
once more in her arms, and kissed her, but only to 
press the purse back into her hand before going 
with her .to the door, from which they both shrank 
on opening it, for a loud voice exclaimed, 

“Thank you! How do? Ah! Miss Chartley, is 
the doctor within ?” 

CHAPTER III. 

THE DOCTOR AT HOME. 

“Yes, my father is at home, Mr. Poynter,” said 
Richmond, speaking calmly, and drawing back for the 
visitor to enter. 

Then to Janet, in a whisper. 

“ Can you stay with me a few minutes ?” 

“I daren’t, dear; I am late now, and — Yes, I un- 
derstand. I will.” 

It was Richmond’s turn to display her firmness, 
and mastering a nervous trepidation which she felt, 
she bent down, kissed her friend, and, with a me'an- 
ing pressure of the hand, said “ good-by,” and 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


35 


ushered the fresh visitor, who was busily turning a 
crimson silk handkerchief round a painfully glossy 
hat, into the dining-room. ' 

“ Thankye,” he said, sitting down, but jumping up 
again, and placing another chair, “ beg pardon, won’t 
you sit down? I’m in no hurry if the doctor’s en- 
gaged.” 

He nervously seized a very thick gold chain, and 
dragged a great gold watch from his pocket to consult. 

“ Eleven,” he said; “ thought I’d come and see him 
as I went into the City. Nothing the matter, much, 
but it’s as well to see your medical man.” 

“I’ll tell my father you are here, Mr. Poynter.” 

“No, don’t hurry. I’m very busy at my place, but 
plenty of time, how’s Hendon.” 

“My brother is quite well.” 

“Is he, now? That’s right. Fine thing, good 
health, ain’t it?” 

“ Of course,” said Richmond quietly. 

“ Yes, of course; so it is. Miss Chartley. Hendon 
always seems to be a fine strong fellow. I always 
liked him since I met him at a fellow’s rooms. Not 
at home now ?” 

“ Oh, no; he has gone on to the hospital.” 

“ Ah, yes. Feel sometimes as if I should go to 
the hospital.” 

The visitor appeared to be a florid, strongly-built 
man, in the most robust health, save that probably a 
love of too many of the good things of this life had 
made its mark upon him. 

“ I will tell my father you are here, said Richmond 
again; and this time she escaped from the room, to 
come suddenly upon Bob outside, striking an attitude 
indictive of a determination to crush the glossy hat 


H6 THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 

left upon the table in the hall; and so sudden was 
liichmond’s appearance that the boy stood fast, as if 
struck with catalepsy, for a few seconds before he be- 
thought himself of a way out of his difficulty, when, 
pretending to catch a fly which did not exist, he 
turned upon his heel, and beat an ignominous re- 
treat to the lower regions. 

Dr. Chartley’s patient was no sooner left alone than 
he started up, and began smoothing his short, care- 
fully-parted hair, took off a second glove to display 
half a dozen jewelled rings, and wetting Angers and 
thumbs, he twirled the begummed points of his 
moustache, and fell into a state of agitation about the 
cut of his ultra-fashionably made clothes. 

He looked round in vain, for there was no look- 
ing-glass ; still, he had some satisfaction, for he was 
able to see that his tightly-fitting patent-leather 
boots were spotless, and that the drab gaiters with 
pearl buttons were exactly in their places; though 
the largely-checked trousers he wore did give him 
trouble as to the exact direction the outer seams 
should take, whilst his sealskin vest would look 
spotty in certain lights. 

He was in the act of re-smoothing his hair when 
Eichmond returned, and, hard City man as he was, 
he could not avoid an increase of depth in his color 
as he saw that the handsome woman before him was 
watching him intently. 

“ My father will come to you directly, Mr. Poynter,” 
she said quietly. 

“ Oh, all right; but don’t let me drive you away, 
Miss Chartley. I don’t see much society, and chat’s 
pleasant sometimes, ain’t it?” 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


37 


“ Of course,” said Richmond quietly; “ but I 
thought my brother said you were fond of society.” 

“Fond of it ? yes, of course,” said Poynter hastily; 
and he smoothed his double fringe over his forehead 
again, where the hairdresser had cut it into a pattern 
which he had assured him was in the height of fash- 
ion, but only with the re'sult of making him look like 
a butcher turned betting-man. “ Yes, fond of it,” he 
said again, “ and of course I can get plenty with fel- 
lows, but— er — ladies’ society is what I like.” 

James Poynterdirected at Richmond a smiling leer, 
one which had proved very successful at more than 
one metropolitan bar, where he had paved the way for 
its success with gifts of flowers and a cheap ring or 
two; but it was utterly lost here, for its intended re- 
cipient was looking another way, and as it faded 
from its inventor’s face there was a blank, inane ex- 
pression left, bordering upon the grotesque. 

“ You should go more into ladies’ society, then, 
Mr. Poynter, as soon as your health permits,” said 
Richmond, with provoking coolness. 

“Oh, I’m not ill,” he said hastily; and his forehead 
grew damp as he floundered about, looking fishy 
now about the eyes and mouth, which opened and 
shut at intervals, as if to give passage to words which 
never came. “ Felt I was — er — little out of sorts, 
you know, and thought I’d see the doctor. Let’s 
see, I said so before, didn’t I?” 

“ Yes, I think you did,- Mr. Poynter. Here is my 
father.” 

There was a slight cough just then, the door 
opened, and the doctor entered, his bland, aristocratic 
presence contrasting broadly with that of his patient. 

“ Ah, Poynter,” he said, “ good-morning. Don’t 


38 


THE BAG OE DIAMONDS. 


go, my dear; Mr. Poynter will come into my consult- 
ing-room, I daresay.” 

“ Yes, of course,” cried tlie patient, shaking hands, 
and forgetting to leave off. ‘‘ I shall — shall you ? — 
good-morning. Miss Chartley.” 

He released the doctor’s hand, to turn and shake 
Bichmond’s which he pres^d desperately, and then 
followed the bland, calm, stately doctor out of the 
room, when he caught up his hat savagely and ground 
his teeth in the dark passage. 

“ I feel just like a fool when I’d;! with her!” he 
said to himself. “ I never feel so anywhere else. And 
I ain’t a fool. I should just like to see the man who, 
would say I was.” 

The doctor led the way through the glazed door 
into the dim surgery, with its rows of bottles, and 
stoppered glass jars containing unpleasant looking 
specimens preserved in spirits, all carefully labelled 
and inscribed in the doctor’s own neat hand,but grown 
yellow with time; and as he closed the door after his 
patient, the latter’s nostrils distended slightly, and 
an air of disgust chased the inane look as he 
breathed the unpleasant medicinal druggy air. 

“ I was just busy over my discovery,” continued 
the doctor blandly, “ and I thought as a friend you 
would not mind coming here — it is the consulting- 
room, my dear Poynter; and I could go on, and we 
could chat over your ailment the while. ” 

“Oh, it’s all the same to me,” said Poynter; and, 
once out of Bichmond’s presence, he seemed another 
being. Instead of carrying his glossy hat in his 
hand, he had resumed it, -and wore it with a vulgar 
cock; he walked with the swagger of the low-class 
City man; and his face shone as he whisked out a 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


39 


second crimson silk handkerchief redolent of per- 
fume, and blew his nose with a loud blast, which 
sounded defiant. 

“ Here we are,” said the doctor, smiling at his 
patient, as if after a long search he had found the ill 
which troubled him, and pulled it up by the roots. 
“ Take that chair, my dear Poynter,” he continued, 
pointing to one by the fire, where a bright copper 
kettle was on the hob, and closing the door, while 
his patient took off his hat, glanced round the room, 
and blew the dust off the top of a side table before 
depositing thereon his new head-covering. 

There was a litter on the table, a chemist’s set of 
weights and scales, divers papers, a spatula, pestle 
and mortar of glass, toy-like in size, and a book with 
memoranda, and pen and ink. 

“Very busy, you see, Poynter; I’ve nearly com- 
pleted my task, and in a few months, perhaps weeks, 
the medical world will be startled by my discoyery.” 

“ What are you going to do with it when you’ve 
done?” 

“ Do with it?” 

“ Yes. Now, if I was you, I should say to a friend, 
‘Lend me a thou.,’ and then take a little shop, put it 
up in bottles, with threehalfpenny stamps, and ad- 
vertise it well as the new patent medicine.” 

“My dear Mr. Poynter !” 

“Hold hard, doctor, I haven’t done,” he cried, 
speaking in a hard, browbeating manner, as if he 
were giving orders. “ Give it a spanking name, 
‘Heal-all,’ or ‘Cure all;’ won’t do to say Kill -all, 
eh ? Haw, haw, haw !” 

He burst into a coarse, loud laugh, and the doctor 
sank back in his chair, with his brows twitching 
slightly. 


40 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


“ Hold hard, I have it. Nothing like a good name 
for the fools who swallow everything. Get some- 
thing out of one of your Greek and Latin physic- 
books — one of those words like hippocaustus or al- 
legorus, or something they can’t understand.” 

“ I do not quite see the force of your argument, my 
dear Mr. Poynter,” said the doctor blandly. 

‘‘Not see? Why, man, it would be patent medi- 
cine then, and no one could take it from you. Look 
at Hannodyne — good stuff, too, when you’ve got a 
headache in the morning — Government stamp, to 
imitate which is forgery !” 

“But still, I — ” 

“ Don’t see ? Nonsense ! Make a fortune. You 
want it. Patients pretty scarce, eh?” 

He laughed again offensively, and the doctor 
winced, but kept up his bland smooth smile. 

“ And suppose I took your advice, my dear Poynter, 
where is the friend to lend me a thousand pounds ?” 

“ Ah ! where’s the friend !” said Poynter, with a 
meaning look. “ P’r’aps I know the friend, if things 
went as he wanted.” 

The doctor’s face changed slightly, but his visitor 
was too obtuse to see it. 

“ And would you suggest that I should— er— preside 
in the little shop and sell the allegorus ?” 

“Ah, that ain’t a bad name, is it?” said Poynter, 
giving his head a shake in the stiff collar in which it 
rested as an egg does in a cup. “No, not you; not 
business-like enough. Make Hendon do that.” 

“Ah,” said the doctor slowly, as he took up the 
bottle, removed the stopper, and smelled the com 
tents before moistening one finger and tasting it. 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 41 

“ You’ll end by poisoning yourself with that stuff, 
doctor,” said Poynter, chuckling. 

“No,” he said blandly, “no, my dear James Poynter, 
no; it is a life-giver, not a destroyer. Now, if you 
were to take, say, twenty drops in water — ” 

“ With sugar?” said Poynter, grinning. 

“ Yes, with sugar, if you liked. There’s no ob- 
jection to flavoring the vehicle — water.” 

“Vehicle — water? Why, I never heard of water 
being called a vehicle ! Thought vehicle meant a 
carriage or trap.” 

“In this case the water would be the vehicle, 
Poynter, and, as I was saying, if you were to take 
twenty drops of this extract, or rather, compound, 
you would feel as if a new lease of life were begin- 
ning — that everything looked brighter ; that nerve 
and muscle were being strung up ; your power of 
thought greater, and — try a little, my dear sir.” 

“ No, thankye, doctor ; but if you’ve got a drop 
of brandy in the place and a bottle of soda, you 
may make it more than twenty drops of that.” 

“I have some brandy,” said the doctor, rising, 
“ but no soda-water. I can mix you a little 
soda and tartaric acid, though, in a glass of water, 
and it will have all the effect.” 

James Poynter showed his great white teeth in a 
broad grin, threw himself back in the patients’ 
chair, and unhooking his watch-chain, began to 
swing round the big seal, pencil-case, and sovereign- 
purse which hung at the end. 

“ No, thankye, doctor,” he said. “ Let’s have the 
brandy-and- water, and sugar purissima, as you folks 
call it now, and you can mix me up a tonic and send 
it on.” 


42 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


“ Certainly, my dear Poynter, certainly,” said the 
doctor, going to a closet, and taking ont a spirit de- 
canter, tumbler, and sugar, which he placed upon 
the stained green-baize table- coTer, smilingly look- 
ing on afterwards with a little bright copper kettle 
in his hand as his visitor poured out liberally into 
his glass. 

“ All right, eh, doctor ? ” said the young man, 
looking up in the bland, smooth face, with a good 
many wrinkles about his right eye. 

“I — er — do not understand you.” 

“ Brandy all right ? No pilly-coshy or anything 
of that sort in it? Fill right up.” 

“No,” said the doctor, smiling. “It’s the best 
brandy, and I’ll take a little with you.” 

He filled up his guest’s glass, and then smilingly 
took a second tumbler from the cupboard, and mixed 
himself a draught. 

“ Yes, not bad brandy, doctor, but wants age,” said 
Poynter, rinsing his mouth with the hot spirit and 
water, as if he had been cleaning his teeth. “Now, 
I have a few dozen of a fine old cognac in my 
cellar that would give this fifty in a hundred, and 
lick it hollow.” 

Perhaps to be expressive, Mr. James Poynter 
shuffled his shoulders against the cushion of the 
chair and licked his lips, ending with a fish-like 
smack. 

“ Let me send you a dozen, doctor.” 

“No, no, my dear sir. I did not know you were 
in the wine and spirit trade.” 

“ Stuff and nonsense !” 

“ And I could not afford — ” 

“ Yah ! Who asked you to ? I meant as a pres- 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


43 


ent. Wine and spirit trade, indeed ! Hang it I Do 
I look like a publican?” 

Dr. Chartley told an abominable lie, for if ever 
man, from the crown of his pomatumed head, down 
over his prominent nubbey forehead, small eyes, 
prominent cheekbones, unpleasant nose, and heavy 
jaw, to the toes of his boots, looked like a fast, race- 
attending licensed victualler, it was James Poynter. 

Dr. Chartley said, in answer to the indignant 
question, “No.” 

“ Humph !” ejaculated the visitor, mollifying him- 
self with a large draught of brandy-and-water. “I 
should think not, indeed. I shall send you a dozen 
of that brandy.” 

“ No, no, I beg !” said the doctor earnestly ; and 
his white forehead puckered up. 

“ Yes, I shall. May I smoke ?” 

“ Certainly — certainly.” 

A very large, well-filled cigar case was already in 
the visitor’s hands. 

“ Take one.” 

“No, thanks. I never smoke.” 

“ Never mind, Hendon does. Here, I shall leave 
those six for him.” 

“ I really would rather , you did not, Poynter; 
indeed I would.” 

“ Get out ! What’s the good of having these 
things if some one else don’t enjoy ’em too ? Make 
Hendon a bit more civil to me. He is so jolly — so 
jolly — what do you call it ? — soopercilious with me. 
Because I’m not a doctor, I suppose. There’s half 
a dozen good ones for him when he comes in. Now, 
Ihen, doctor, go ahead. Want -to see my tongue?” 

“ No — no,” said the doctor; “ the look of your eye 


44 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


is sufficient, Mr. Poynter. It is much clearer. Felt 
any more of the chest symptoms ?” 

“No, not so much of them; but I don’t sleep as I 
should: feverish and tossy — spend half my nights 
punching my pillow.” 

“Have you given up the suppers ?” 

“ Well, not quite. You see a man can’t drop every- 
thing. I know a lot of men, and one’s obliged, you 
see, to do as they do. But now look here; doctor. 
You’ve been treating me these three months.” 

“Dear me ! is it so long as that?” 

“ More. You’ve poked my chest about, and lis- 
tened to my works, and given me all sorts of stuff to 
take, and told me to eat this and drink that, and 
now I suppose you think I’m sound, wind and limb ?” 

“ Certainly, my dear sir, certainly. I told you so 
at the first, and that no treatment was necessary.” 

“ Yes, yes, all right; but I’d got to be a bit nervous, 
doctor, and now, as I say, you think me sound, wind 
and limb ?” 

“ Quite.” 

“Then you’ll agree, wont you?” 

“Agree?” said the doctor, looking over the glasses 
he had put on when commencing to be professional. 

“Yes. I’m as good a man as there is at Mincing 
Lane over a tea bargain; but a job like this knocks 
the wind out of me, makes me feel a damaged lot 
where the sea-water’s got in, or a Maloo mixture. 
Can’t do it: but you understand.” 

“ Eeally, Mr. Poynter, I — ” 

“ Now don’t run away, doctor; don’t, please. I’m 
a warm man, and I’m getting warmer. My house is 
tip-top. I gave two -fifty for the piano, I did, ’pon 
my soul, and fifty apiece for the cut-glass chandies 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


45 


in the drawing-room. There ain’t a better garden 
in Sydenham. You’re willing, ain’t you?” 

“ Do you mean — ” 

“Yes, that’s it. Say the word. There, I’ve loved 
her ever since I first saw her. And situated as you 
are, doctor — ” 

“ Mr. Poynter. 

“ No offence meant — far from it; but of course I 
can’t help seeing how things are. Come, you’ll give 
your consent, and get hers, and I’ll make settlements 
— anything you like. You shall come and have a bit 
o’ dinner with us every Sunday, and a glass o’ real 
port wine; and if you’d rather have a cab to come 
home, why, there you are. Come, there’s my hand. 
AYliere’s yours ?” 

“Do I understand — ” 

“ Stop a moment, doctor. Of course you’ll attend 
us, whether we’re ill or whether we ain’t. Keep us 
in order, like; and as to your fees, why, I ask you 
now, as a man, what is a fee to me?” 

“ Mr. Poynter !” 

“ One moment, doctor. I don’t say anything about 
a brougham. If Miss Eichmond — I say, doctor, 
what made you call her Eichmond and him Hendon ?” 

“ A foolish whim — eccentricity,” said the doctor 
coldly. “ One child was born on the North Eoad, 
the other at the pretty old place on the south west.” 

“ I see. Well, as I was saying, if Miss Eichmond 
likes it to be a brougham, either the real thing, or 
on the job, she has only got to speak, and it’s hers.” 

“ Am I to understand, Mr. Poynter, that this is a 
formal proposal for my daughter’s hand ?” 

“ That’s it. How you can put it, doctor ! You’re 
right; it is, and there’s my hand.” 


4G 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


“ Mr. Poynter,” said the doctor, drawing himself 
up in his chair, and without taking the extended 
hand, “ that is a matter upon which I am not pre- 
pared to speak.” 

“ Why, you’re her father, ain’t you?” 

“Does my daughter sanction this?” 

“Well — er — yes — no — hardly, because I’ve never 
put it to her plump. But you know what women 
are — sealskins, a carriage, bit o’ jewelry, and their 
own way. Why, of course she does ; did you ever 
know a woman as didn’t want to marry? They 
often say so, but — You know. There, say the 
word: I’ll just go in and see her, and it’ll be a good 
job for all of us, and I shall go away with the day 
fixed.” 

“ No, Mr. Poynter,” said the doctor gravely; “ I 
have been a medical man for thirty years — a great 
student, but I must frankly confess that I do not 
know what women are. As to my daughter, she is 
of an age to judge for herself, and when she accepts 
a man for her husband — ” 

“ I say, hold hard; there’s nothing on, is there ?” 

“You have told me that you love my child.” 

“Like all that, doctor. But you know what I 
mean: old lover, priory attachment, and that sort of 
thing.” 

“As far as I know, there has never been any at- 
tachment. Bichmond is not like most girls.” 

“ Bight doctor. She isn’t. That fetched me. Why, 
in her plain shabby things — ” 

The doctor winced. 

“ She knocks my sister into fits, and Lyddy spends 
two-fifty a year in dressmaking and millinery, with- 
out counting jewelry and scent.” 


, THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


47 


“I may say,” continued the doctor, “that my 
daughter has always devoted herself to her brother 
and me.” 

“ Oh, yes, doctor, I’ve spotted that,” said the 
visitor, smoking furiously. 

“ And I have never seen any sign of an attach- 
ment. I once thought that there was a liking 
between her and young Mark Heath.” 

“ What, brother to that Miss Janet who comes 
here ?” cried Poynter eagerly. 

“ The same; but that was years ago.” 

“ And he’s abroad, isn’t he?” 

“ He went to the Cape— to seek his fortune,” said 
the doctor gravely; “ but he has not been heard of 
now for two years.” 

“ Dead, safe 1” said Poynter, drawing a breath full 
of relief. 

“ I’m afraid so.” 

“ Afraid ?” 

“ It would be sad if the young man had ended his 
career like that.” 

“Of course. But they weren’t engaged?” 

“ Certainly not, Mr. Poynter.” 

“ And you’ve no objection to me, doctor ?” 

“ N-no — I — that is, Mr. Poynter, “ I look upon 
this as a matter for my daughter to decide.” 

“ Of course, doctor. Well, I’ll just finish my 
cigar and grog, and then I’ll go and put it to her, 
plump and plain; and, as I said before, it’ll be a fine 
da.y’s work for us all. 

The doctor sighed. 

“ I say, you know,” continued his visitor, with the 
wrinkles coming about his eyes, “ it was all a dodge 
of mine.” 


48 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


“I beg your pardon.” 

“ There wasn’t anything the matter with me when 
I came.” 

“ Nothing whatever,” said the doctor, nodding 
acquiescence. 

What ! you knew that ?” 

“ Of course I did. I looked upon it as alj. imag- 
inary.” 

But you took the fees, doctor ?” said the young 
man, laughing. 

You took up my time.” 

“But I say, doctor, isn’t that too bad ?” 

“ Not at all. My dear sir, the medical profession 
would be a poor one if we had no patients with im- 
aginary ills. We treat them; they think we do them 
good; and they grow better. Surely we earn our fees.” 

“ Oh, but, doctor,” said the young man jocularly, 
“ why not honestly tell them they are all right, in- 
stead of taking their coin?” 

“ Because if we did they would not believe us, and 
would go to some other medical man.” 

“ Then you knew I was all right ?” 

“ Certainly I did.” 

“And made me up that wretched physic to take.” 

“You would not have been satisfied without.” 

“Ah, well,” said the young man, with a chuckle 
which resulted in his wiping his eyes with his highly 
scented handkerchief, “ I never took a drop.” 

“ I know that too,” said the doctor. 

“ Ah, well; we understand one another now, and 
I’d better go.” 

James Poynter, however, seemed to be in no hurry 
to go, but sipped his brandy-and-water, smoked his 
cigar down to the throwing -away length, and then 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


49 


brought out from his vest-pocket an amber and 
meerschaum mouthpiece, tipped with gold, into 
which he fitted the wet end of the cigar, and smoked 
till he could smoke no longer, when he rose, flush- 
faced, and with the dew upon his forehead. 

“I suppose I must go and get it done, doctor,” he 
said; “but it’s rather a — well, it makes a man feel — 
I say, doctor, what is there in a pretty woman that 
makes a man feel half afraid of her, like?” 

“ I told you, Mr. Poynter, a short time back, that 
I did not understand women,” said the doctor 
gravely. “ I cannot tell. Say Nature’s heaven-gift 
for her defence.” 

“ Humph !” said Poynter, staring. “ I say, doctor 
— cigar, you know. Could you give a fellow a mouth- 
ful of something that would take the taste out of one’s 
mouth? Going to see a lady.” 

“Try cold water,” said the doctor, in a tone of 
voice which sounded like throwing that fluid upon 
the young man’s hopes; but he had so much faith in 
himself that the verbal water glanced from his fine 
feathers, and after rinsing his mouth, he shook hands 
clumsily, intending to leave the doctor’s fee within 
his palm, but managed to drop the more valuable of 
the two coins on the edge of the fender, when it flew 
beneath the grate, and had to be fished out with the 
tongues. 

“ Dodgy stuff, money, doctor,” said Poynter, 
setting down the fire-iron, and blowing the coin. 

“ Don’t take all that trouble, pray.” 

“ Oh, it’s no trouble, doctor. I was never above 
picking up a sov. There, don’t you come. I know 
my way;” and he left the consulting-room to go into 
the house and learn his fate. 


50 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


“Brute!” said the doctor, with a look of disgust, 
as he sank into his chair. “ Why is Fate so unfair 
with her gold 1 I thought as much, but Kichmond 
will say m” 

“ Old lunatic !” said James Poynter, with his fat 
upper lip curling in disgust, as his eyes lit on the 
row of glass jars with their ghastly contents. 
“ Once I get my lady home, I don’t mean to see much 
of him. Here, boy,” he said, as he reached the hall, 
and so suddenly that there was nearly a serious 
accident, for Bob was coming down the balustrade 
from the first floor, gliding upon the central part of 
his person with arms and legs extended — taking 
hold having grown common. 

The sharp “Here, boy 1” so startled him that 
he overbalanced himself, went right over, but 
caught at the upright spindly bars, and so far saved 
himself that he came down upon his feet in a couple 
of somersaults, recovering himself directly, and 
coming forward with a grin upon his bloodless face, 
as if the feat had been intended. 

“ Ah, you’ll break your neck some day. Here’s a 
shilling for you. Take me into Miss Chartley at 
once.” 

Bob bit the coin, and slipped it into his pocket 
before he replied, 

“Gone out.” 

“ Gone out? Will she be long?” 

“ Dessay she’ll be hours, sir.” 

James Poynter stamped with his foot, and mut- 
tered something unparliamentary. 

“ Tell Miss Chartley,” he said. “No, don’t tell 
her anything. Here, let me out.” 

Bob ran to the ponderous old door, and stood 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


51 


holding it open with his eyes glittering as he stared 
at the visitor, till he had hurried out with his hat 
set very much on one side, and Avalked sharply away. 

“ Thought he’d want the bob again,” said the boy. 
“ Just do for the old gal. Well, I’m blessed!” 

This last consequent upon his catching sight of a 
shabby-looking figure in black, with a damaged 
bonnet, and a weirdly dissipated look, rising slowly 
into sight up the area-steps, and then coming out of 
the creaking gate to the boy, who grew more serious 
the nearer the figure came. 

It was not a pleasant face to look upon, for it was 
not over-clean; the black and gray hair was ill-ar- 
ranged, and the eyes that shone above the flushed 
cheeks belied the woman sadly if they did not tell 
the truth about potations. 

“ Why, Bob, my darling,” she said, with an exag- 
gerated fawning smile, ‘‘and how is my bonny boy?” 

“ Here stow that, mother,” cried the lad, strug- 
gling from an embrace. “ Don’t ! Can’t yer see I’ve 
been brushing my hair?” 

“ Yes, and it looks beautiful, ducky. I’ve been 
knocking ever so long at the hairy door, and that fine 
madam saw me, and wouldn’t let me in.” 

“ No; she says I ain’t never to let you in no more.” 

“ Not let me in no more to see my own boy ?” 

“ No; she says you took some fresh butter last 
time you was here, and you sha’n’t come.” 

“ Then you sha’n’t stay. Bob; I’ll take you away, 
my darling. Oh, it’s a wicked, cruel world !” 

“ Here, I say, mother, stow that. Whatcher want?” 

“ Want, my darling? Yes, that’s it: want — ^star- 
ing want; but you sha’n’t stay here.” 

“Get out! I shall.” 


52 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


‘‘ No, you slia’n’t, you ungrateful boy. I won’t be 
separated from my own child. Bob dear, have you 
got any money ?” 

“Eh?” 

“ Anybody give you anything ?” whined the woman. 
“ There ain’t been nothing pass my lips this blessed 
day.” 

“ Oho ! what a wunner !” cried the boy. “ Why, I 
can smell yer.” 

“ No, no, my dear ; that’s Mrs. Billson as you can 
smell. I’ve been talking to her, and she drinks 
’orrid. x4.in’tcher got a few pence for your poor lone 
mother, who’s ready to break her heart sometimes 
because she’s parted from her boy ?” 

“ Will you go away if I give you something ?” 

“ Go away ? Oho !” whined the woman, wiping off 
a maudlin tear with the end of her shawl. 

“Here, I say, don’t cry on the front doorsteps. 
Come down in the hairy, where nobody can’t see 
you.” 

“ Driven away by my own boy ! Oho, oho !” 

“ ’Tain’t my fault. Doctor said you wasn’t to 
come, and if you did he’d send me away.’^ 

“ Then come home. Bob, to your poor heartbroken 
mother.” 

“Walker!” cried the boy. “Why yer ain’t got 
no home to give a chap.” 

“No home?” 

“ Well, I don’t call that a home, living up in a 
hattic along o’ old Mother Billson.” 

“ Oh, you ungrateful boy I Ain’t it enough for me 
to have come down so that I’m obliged to see my 
own son in liveries, without him turning against me.” 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


53 


“ Who’s a-turning again you ? Don’t cry, I tell 
yer,” he said, angrily stamping a foot 
Then you shall come home.” 

" Sha’n’t I ain’t going to leave the doctor and 
Miss Eich for nobody, so there ” 

“ Ugh, you viper !” 

‘‘Here, stow that Who’s a viper? See what 
they’ve done for me when I was runned over. Why, 
if it hadn’t been for Miss Eich a-nussing of me when 
you was alius tipsy, you wouldn’t have had no boy 
at all, only a dead ’un berrid out at Finchley along 
o’ the old mam” 

“ Ah, you wicked ungrateful little serpent I They’ve 
been setting you again your poor suffering mother.” 

“Stow that, I say. You’ll have the doctor hear 
you if you don’t be quiet” 

“I won’t be quiet, you wicked, wicked — 

“Look here! If you don’t hold your row, I won’t 
give you the bob and two coppers I’ve got for you.” 

“ Have you got some money for your poor mother, 
then ?” 

“ I’ve got a bob a gent give me, and twopence, my 
half of what we got for the bones me and ’ Lisbeth 
sold.” 

“ Ah ! I’m a poor suffering woman, and I do say 
things sometimes as I don’t mean,” .whined the 
wretched creature. “ Give me the money, dear, and 
let me go.” 

“If I give it to yer, you won’t say no more about 
my coming away ?” 

“ No, dear; I only want to see you happy.” 

“ Well, there, then,” he said, giving her the coins; 
“ and, I say — ” 

“ Yes, mj^ precious.” 


54 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


“ You ain’t to spend none of it in gin.” 

“Gin? Oh, no, my dear.” 

“ Get some pudding out of Holborn, and a saveloy; 
and, I say, mother, get yourself a bit o’ tea.” 

“ Yes my darling.” 

“ And don’t let Mrs. Billson gammon you into 
lending her none of it.” 

“ No, my dear. And there, good-by, Bob; be a 
good-boy. I won’t come wherriting of you no 
more’n I can help.” 

The miserable object, from whom out of compas- 
sion Richmond Chartley had rescued the boy, 
shuffled along the street to the nearest public-house, 
to buy more plus spirit with which to attack her 
miserable minus spirit, with the result that, as a 
mathematical problem, one would kill the other as 
sure as Fate. 

Meanwhile Bob stood on the step watching her. 

“Wonder whether the old gal does like me? 
Somehow she alius goes as soon as she gets all a 
chap’s got. Now she’ll go and have a drop. She 
alius does when she says she won’t.” 

“ Bob ! you Bob !” came in a shrill voice from the 
kitchen stairs. 

“ Can’t you see I’m a coming ?” cried the boy; and 
hurriedly closing the door, he returned to his 
work. 

CHAPTER lY. 

PUBLIC OPINION ON CURKENT EVENTS. 

There was a desperate scuffle going on round the 
corner as Hendon Chartley came by one day, and he 
would have passed on without seeing it, only that 
his English blood was stirred at the way in which 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


65 


the odds were all on one side— four boys being en- 
gaged in pummelling one who, in spite of the 
thrashing he was getting, fought on boldly, till, with 
a couple of sharp cuts of his cane, Hendon settled 
two of the combatants, when the other two ran 
away. 

“ Thankye, sir.” 

“ You young dog, is it you ?” cried Hendon. 

‘‘ Yes, sir; and I should ha’ licked all on ’em if you 
hadn’t come.” 

“ Why, you ungrateful young rascal, be off back 
and wash your face. Look here: I’ll have you 
turned away.” 

“ No, sir; please, sir, don’t, sir. I couldn’t help it, 
sir. I was obliged to fight, sir; I was indeed, sir. 
Oh , don’t, sir; you hurts !” 

Hendon listened to no remonstrance, but catching 
the boy by the collar he thrust him back till he 
reached the door, which he opened with his latch- 
key, and, bundling the boy in, sent him staggering 
along the hall as he closed the door, and went on 
once more. 

“ Yah ! who cares for you ?” cried the boy angrily; 
and then his countenance changed, and he broke 
into a smile as he found himself face to face with 
Eich. 

“ Why, Bob,” she exclaimed, “what is the matter?” 

“ I couldn’t help it. Miss. Mr. Hendon shoved me 
in like that. I meant to come in by the area.” 

“ But why did he bring you back like that ? Did 
he know where you had been ?” 

“Oh, no. Miss! I never tells anybody where I’m 
going with a note for you; not even Mr. Poynter, 
Miss. Here’s the letter; and Miss Heath said I was 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


to give her love to you, and she hadn’t been because 
she was so busy.” 

Bob drew a letter from his pocket, and as he did 
so made upon it an ugly mark. 

“ Why, Bob, your hand’s bleeding !” 

“ Is it. Miss? Oh, ah! so it is That ain’t nothink.” 

“ You are all over mud, too. Have you met with 
an accident again?” 

The boy’s lips parted to say “ Yes,” but as he gazed 
up into the clear searching eyes which looked down 
so kindly into his, he shook his head. 

“No, Miss,” he said boldly. 

“ Why, Bob, you have not been fighting ?” 

“ I didn’t want to fight. Miss; but what’s a chap to 
do ?” 

“Surely not fight when he is sent on an errand,” 
said Kich severely. 

“ I didn’t want to fight,” said the boy again: “ but 
I was fighting’, and Mr. Hendon ketched me. 

“ I’m afraid. Bob, I shall be obliged to speak to 
my father, and have you sent away.” 

“ No, no 1 don’t do that. Miss; please don’t. I will 
be so very useful, and I will do everythink ’Lisbeth 
tells me. Don’t send a feller away.” 

“ We cannot keep a boy who behaves so badly,” 
continued Bich, who was trying to hide being amused 
and pleased at the boy’s affectionate earnestness. 

“Then I won’t fight no more,” said Bob. “ But 
you don’t know what it is, Miss. You don’t know 
how the fellers tease yer. They’re allers at yer. 
Soon as yer goes down the street, some one shouts 
‘Bottles I’ Jest because I takes out the physic. I 
should jest like to make some on ’em take it. I’d 
give ’em a dose.” 


THE BAG OP DIAMONDS. 


57 


“ But, Bob, you ought to be too sensible to take 
any notice about a rude boy calling you names.” 

“ So I am, Miss,” cried the boy, “ ever so much. 
I never did nothing till they began on the doctor.” 

“Began on the doctor?” 

“ Yes, Miss; saying all sorts o’ things about him. 
I shouldn’t like to tell you what.” 

“And I should not like to hear. Bob,” said Eich 
gravely, as she went up-stairs; while after waiting till 
he heard a door close. Bob went cautiously into the 
surgery, crept to the door of the consulting-room, 
and listened to find out whether the doctor was there, 
and finding him absent, the boy went nimbly to the 
nest of drawers, opened one, and took out a pair of 
scissors before lifting a tin case from a corner — a 
case which looked like the holder of a map. 

Bob removed the lid, drew out a roll of diachylon, 
and after cutting off a strip, he replaced the lid and 
scissors, and descended to the kitchen, were Elizabeth 
was peeling potatoes, and making the droning noise 
which she evidently believed to be a song. 

“ Look ye here !” cried the boy, triumphantly show- 
ing his bleeding knuckles. 

Elizabeth uttered a faint cry. 

“Why, you’ve been fighting! ’’she cried. “Oh, 
you bad wicked boy 1” 

“ So are you,” cried Bob tauntingly: “you’d fight 
if the chaps served you as they did me, and said 
what they did about the doctor.” 

“ What did they say ? ” said the girl, giving her 
nose a rub as if to make it more plastic. 

“ You bathe them cuts nistely and put some stick- 
ing-plaister on, and I’ll tell you.” 

Elizabeth set down the potato basin, wiped her 


68 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


hands, and after filling a tin bowl full of cold water, 
and fetching a towel, she tenderly bathed the boy’s 
dirty injured hands. 

“ Now tell me what they said about the doctor,” 
she said coaxingly. 

“ Why, they gets saying things to try and get me 
took away. My old woman don’t like me stopping.” 

“ She’s a dreadful old creature,” said Elizabeth an- 
grily, “ and I won’t have her here.” 

“So’s your old woman a dreadful old creature,” 
retorted Bob,” ‘‘and I won’t have her here.” 

“My mother’s been dead ten years,” said Eliza- 
beth, battling with an obstinate bit of mud, “ and I 
won’t have you speak to me in that impudent way.” 

“ Then you leave my poor old woman alone.” 

“ You let her stop away instead of always coming 
down them area-steps, and you encouraging her.” 

“ That I don’t, so come now. She’s my old woman 
and I’m very fond on her ; but I wish she wouldn’t 
come. She alius comes when I’m busy.” 

“ And she ought to be very glad you are here.” 

“But she ain’t. She says doctors are bad ’uns, 
and that they do all sorts o’ things as they oughtn’t 
to. She was in the orspittle once, and she said it 
was horrid, and if she hadn’t made haste and got well 
they’d have ’sected her.” 

“Lor!” said Elizabeth, drying the boy’s hands 
with a series of gentle pats of the towel. 

“ And she says she knows the doctor does them 
sort o’ things on the sly, and that she shall take me 
away, and I don’t want to go.” 

“Well, that didn’t make you fight, did it ?” 

“ Yes, it did, now. I was going to tell you, on’y 
you’re in such a hurry. I went to take a letter for 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


59 


Miss Rich this morning, and as I was coming back, 
I meets mother, and she was asking me if I’d got 
any—” 

“ Money ?’ ’ said Elizabeth promptly. 

“Well, s’ pose she did? If your mother warn’t 
dead, and hadn’t any money, p’r’aps if she met you 
in the street she’d ask you for money. Then how 
would you like it if four chaps come and said, ‘Hallo, 
Bottles, how many dead ’uns have you not in the 
dust-hole?” 

“Lor! did they say that?” said Elizabeth, squeez- 
ing the boy’s hand in the interest she took. 

“I say don’t! You hurt. Here, cut up some o’ 
that dacklum and warm it, and stick it on. Then 
one on ’em said he looked through the keyhole one 
day, and saw the doctor sharpening his knife; and 
that set mother off crying, and she sets down on a 
door-step, and goes on till she made me wild; and 
the more she cried and said she’d take me away the 
more they danced about, and called me body- 
snatcher.” 

“ Hoav awful ! ” said Elizabeth, holding a strip of 
diachylon at the end of the scissors to warm at the 
fire. 

“ But I got the old woman off at last for twopence, 
and soon as she’d gone I was coming home, and I 
met them four again, and they began at me once 
more.” 

“ Did they, though ? ” said Elizabeth. 

“Yes, and I pitched into ’em ; and so would any 
one, I say. Why, it’s enough to make the old woman 
fetch me away. I say, Liz, you don’t want me to go, 
do you ? ” 

“Indeed, but I do, sir.” 


60 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


No, you don’t. I say, Liz, I’m so precious hun- 
gry. Got anything to give a fellow ? ” 

“No. You took out two slices of bread and drip- 
ping to eat as you went.” 

Bob nodded. ^ 

“ Why you never went and give them to that old 
woman, did you ? ” 

“ Ah, your mother’s been dead ten years,” said 
Bob sententiously. “ S’pose I did give it to her? It 
was mine, and I wasn’t obliged to eat it, was I? 
Thankye, that’ll do.” 

Bob patted the plaister down on his knuckles, and 
had reached the kitchen door, when Elizabeth of the 
smudgy face called him by name^ and, with as near 
an approach to a smile as she could display, showed 
him a piece of pudding on the cupboard shelf. 

“And you said you wanted me to go,” said Bob, 
with his mouth full, after a busy pause; “but I 
know’d you didn’t mean it. I say, Liz, is that big 
gent with the rings and chains and shiny hat going 
to marry Miss Bich ?” 

“ I don’t know,” said Elizabeth, suddenly grow- 
ing deeply interested. “ Why ?” 

“ Because he’s always coming to see the doctor, 
and whenever I let him in he asks me where Miss 
Rich is, and gives me something.” 

“Lor !” 

“ Yes, and he looks at her so.” 

“Do he, now? And what does Miss Rich say?” 

“ Oh, she only talks to him about its being fine or 
rainy, and as if she didn’t want to stop in the room.” 

“ Then she is,” said Elizabeth triumphantly. 

“Is? Is what?” 


THE BAG OE DIAMONDS. 61 

“Going to marry him. That’s the proper way for 
a lady to behave.” 

“ Oh !” said Bob shortly, and a curious frown came 
over his countenance. “ I don’t like him, somehow. 
I wish one didn’t want money quite so bad.” 

Bob went up-stairs, and the place being empty he 
shut himself up in the surgery, to indulge in a mor- 
bid taste for trying flavor or odor of everything in 
the place, and fortunately so far without fatal or even 
dangerous results. 

After a time he had a fit, and prescribed for him- 
self Syrup Aurantii — so much in cold water, leaving 
himself in imagination in the chair while he mixed 
the medicine, and going back to the chair to take it. 
After recovering from his imaginary fit, he spelled 
over a number of the Lmicet, dwelling long over an 
account of an operation of a novel kind; and ending 
by standing upon a chair and carefully noting the con- 
tents of the doctor’s glass jars of preparations, which 
he turned round and round till he was tired, and 
came down, to finish the morning by helping himself 
to about a teaspoonful of chlorate of potass, which 
he placed in his trousers-pocket, not from any inten- 
tion of taking it to purify his blood, but to drop in 
pinches in the kitchen fire and startle Elizabeth. 

“ Teach her not to say things agen my old woman,” 
said Bob. “Just as if she can help being old!” 

CHAPTEE V. 

A sister’s trial. 

“ Don’t ask questions. There’s the money; take 
it. You don’t think I stole it, do you ?” 

“ Stole it Hendon dear? No, of course. How 
can you talk so ?” 


62 


THE BAG OP DIAMONDS. 


“Then why don’t you take it?” 

“ Because, as your sister, I think I have a right to 
know whence it comes.” 

“ And, as your brother, seeing how we live here, 
in everybody’s debt, I don’t think you need be so 
jolly particular.” 

“ However poor we are, Hendon, we need not lose 
our self-respect.” 

“Self-respect! How is a man to have self-respect, 
without a penny in his pocket ? ” 

“You just showed me pounds.” 

“Yes, now.” 

“ How did you* come by it, Hendon ” 

“ Don’t ask,” he cried impatiently. “ Take it, and 
pay that poor girl some wages on account, and give 
young Bob a tightener. Don’t be so squeamish, 
Eich.” 

“ I will not take the money. You deceived me 
once before.” 

“Well, if I’d told you I won it at pool you wouldn’t 
have taken it.” ^ 

“No,” said Eich firmly, “I would sooner have 
lived on dry bread. This money, then, is part of 
some gambling transaction ? ” 

“It isn’t.” 

“ Then how did you come by it ? ” 

“ Well, then, if you will have it, Poynter lent it to 
me!” 

“ Oh, Hendon, Hendon, has it come to this?” 
cried Eichmond piteously. 

“ Yes, it has. What is a fellow to do ? Home’s 
wretched ; one never has a shilling. The guvnor’s 
mad over his essence, as he calls it, and I believe, if 
he saw us starve, he would smile and sigh.” 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


63 


“No, no. He is so intent upon liis discovery, that 
he does not realize our position.” 

“ His discovery ! Bah I Lunacy ! There isn’t a 
fellow at Guy’s who wouldn’t laugh at me if I told 
him what the guvnor does. Bich, old girl, I’m sick 
of it ! It was madness for me to go through all this 
training, when I might have been earning money as 
a porter or a clerk. Everything has been swallowed 
up in the fees. Why, if Jem Poynter hadn’t come 
forward like a man, and paid the last — ” 

“What?” 

“ Well, what are you shouting at ? ” 

“ Did Mr. Poynter pay your last fees at Guy’s? ’* 

“ Of course he did. Do you suppose the money 
was caught at the bottom of a spout after a 
shower ? ” 

“ Hendon, dear Hendon ! ” 

“There, it’s no use to be so squeamish. If those 
last hadn’t been paid, it would have been like throw- 
ing away all that had been paid before.” 

“ I did not know of this — I did not know of this !” 

“ Don’t, don’t dear ! I couldn’t help it. I used 
to feel as bad as you do; but this cursed poverty har- 
dens a man. I fought against it; but Poynter was 
always after me, tempting me, standing dinners when 
I was as hungry as a hound; giving me wine and 
cigars. He has almost forced money on me lots of 
times; and at — at other times — when I’ve had a few 
glasses — I haven’t refused it. It’s all Janet’s fault.” 

“ Hendon !” 

“Well, so it is!” cried the young fellow passion- 
ately. “ If she hadn’t thrown me over as she did — ” 

• “To save you from additional poverty.” 

“No, it didn’t; it made me desperate, and ready tO' 


64 


THE BAG OE DIAMONDS. 


drink when a chap like Poynter was jolly, and forced 
champagne on me. I was as proud as you are 
once, but my pride’s about all gone !” 

“ Hush 1 1 will not hear you speak like that Hen- 
don, my own darling brother ! For Janet’s sake — 

“ She’s nothing to me now. I was thrown over 
for some other fellow.” 

“ How dare you, sir ! You know it is not true ! 
Dear Janet I Working daily like a slave, and offer- 
ing me her hard earnings when we were so pressed.” 

“Did she — did she? ” cried Hendon excitedly, and 
with his pale face flushing up. 

“ There,” cried Eichmond half-laughingly, half- 
scornfully, “ confess, sir, that a lying spirit was on 
your lips. Say you believe that of Janet and that you 
do not still love her, if you dare !” 

Hendon Chartley let his head fall into his hands, 
and bent down, with his shoulders heaving with the 
emotion he could not conceal, while his sister bent 
over him and laid her hand upon his head. 

He started up at her touch, seized and kissed her 
hand, and then, going to the side of the room, he laid 
his arm against the panel and his brow upon it, to 
stand talking there. 

“I can’t help it. Rich dear,” he groaned ; feel 
like a brute beast sometimes, and as if I can never 
look her in the face again. I’ve drunk ; I’ve gone 
wild in a kind of despair; and Poynter seems to have 
been always by me to egg me on, and get me under 
his thumb.” 

“ My own brother !” 

“ Don’t touch me, dear. I can’t stop here. I’ll 
do as Mark Heath did, and if Janet ’ll wait, perhaps 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 65 

some day I may come back to her a better man, and 
she may forgive me.” 

There was a pause. 

“ I don’t believe anything of her but what is good 
and true; God bless her for a little darling— Why, 
Eich !” 

He turned sharply, for a low moan had escaped his 
sister, and he found that she had sunk into a chair, 
and was sobbing bitterly, with her face in her hands. 

“ Eich darling, I did not mean it. What have I 
said?” 

“Nothing, nothing, dear; only you— you must not 
leave me.” 

“ But Mark Heath — Ah! what a fool lam!” he 
cried, catching his sister in his arms. “ I did not 
think what I was saying; and, Eich dear, hold up, I 
don’t believe the dear old boy is dead.” 

“ Hush, Hendon dear !” said Eichmond, mastering 
her emotion; “ I want — want to talk to you about 
Mr. Poynter.” 

“ Yes, all right. Sit down, dear, and I won’t be 
such a fool.” 

“ You must not leave me.” 

“ I won’t. I’ll stop and fight it out like a man. 
And as for James Poynter, I wish I hadn’t let him 
pay those rates.” 

“ What ?” 

“ I didn’t like to telj you, but I let out to him about 
the gas and water and the rest of it, and next day he 
gave me all the receipts. It was one night after I’d 
dined with him at his club, and I was a bit primed. 
I thought it was very noble of him then, but when I 
saw it all I did nothing but curse and swear. It was 
nearly the death of a patient at Guy’s, for I forgot 


66 


THE BAG OP DIAMONDS. 


what I was about. Hang it, Rich dear ! don’t look 
so white as that.” 

“I — I was wondering why we had not been 
troubled more,” she stammered; and then, with her 
face flushing, she turned fiercely upon her brother. 

“Hendon,” she cried, “do you know what this 
means ?” 

There was utter silence, and Hendon Chartley 
turned his face away. 

“ I say, do you know what this means ? Hendon, 
speak ?” 

“Yes.” 

It was slowly and unwillingly said. 

“And you have encouraged this man to make ad- 
vances to the woman your best friend — almost your 
brother — loved ?” 

“ Oh, Rich 1” 

“ Speak.” 

“ No, no ! I never encouraged him. I fought against 
it, and it has made me half mad when the great vul- 
gar boor has sat talking about you, and drinking 
your health and praising you. Rich, I tell you I’ve 
felt sometimes as if I could smash the champagne 
bottle over his thick skull for even daring to think 
about you.” 

“ And yet you have let him do all this !” cried 
Richmond, with her eyes flashing. “ Hendon — 
brother, for the sake of this man’s money and the 
comforts it would bring, do you wish to see me his 
wife ?” 

“ D — n it, no! I’d sooner see you dead 1” cried the 
young man passionately. “ Say the word, old girl, 
and I’ll fight for you as a brother should. I’ll half- 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


67 


starve myself but wliat I’ll get on, and pay that 
thick-skinned City elephant every penny I’ve had.” 

“And some day Janet shall put her arms round 
your neck, and tell you that you are the best and 
truest boy that ever lived.” 

“Ah ! some day,” said Hendon sadly. 

“ Yes, some day,” cried Rich, clasping him in her 
arms. “ Hendon dear, you’ve made me strong where 
I felt very, very weak, and now we can join hands 
and fight the enemy to the very last.” 

“ When old Mark shall come back.” 

“Hush!” 

“No, I’ll not hush 1 When dear old Mark shall 
come back, and all these troubles be like a dream.” 

Richmond looked up with a sad smile in her 
brother’s face, and kissed him once again. 

“And Janet — ” he said hoarsely, after he had re- 
turned her caress. 

“ Is acting as a true woman should. Take her as 
a pattern, dear, and show some self-denial.” 

“ Why not take you. Rich ?” he said kindly, as he 
gazed in the sweet careworn face before him. “ There, 
I won’t ask you to have the money. I’m off; if I 
stop here longer I shall be acting like a girl. As for 
Poynter, if he comes and pesters you — ” 

“ Mr. Poynter will not come,” said Richmond, 
drawing herself up proudly. “He has acted like a 
coward to us both.” 

“ One moment. Rich, said Hendon eagerly : “ do 
you think — the governor — ” 

“ Has taken money from him ? No. ” 

“Thank God!” 

“ My father, whatever his weakness, is a true gen- 
tleman at heart. He would not do this thing.” 


68 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


Hendon advanced a step to take his sister in his 
arms, but in his eyes then she wore so much the as- 
pect of an indignant queen that he raised her thin 
white hand- to his lips instead, and hurried from the 
house. 

CHAPTEK YL 

THE SURGERY IMP. 

Dr. Chartley sat in his consulting-room, with a 
glass jar, retort, receiver, and spirit-lamp before him. 
The lamp was on the table, and made with its shaded 
light and that of the fire a pleasant glow, which took 
off some of the desolation of the bare consulting- 
room on that bitter night. 

He had been busy over his discovery, and con- 
fessed that it was not so far advanced as he could 
wish. 

“ There is a something wanting,” he had muttered 
more than once; and, wearied at last, he was think- 
ing more seriously than usual of his son, of Rich- 
mond, and of James Poynter. 

“It would place her above the reach of want,” he 
said dreamily; “ she would be happy if anything be- 
fell me. Yes, money is a power, and we are now so 
poor, so poor, that life seems to have become one 
bitter struggle, in which I am too weak to engage.” 

He sighed, and rose, walked into the miserably 
cold surgery, where Bob was diligently polishing the 
front of the nest of drawers containing drugs, and 
leaving threads of cotton from the ragged duster 
hanging upon the broken knobs. 

“ Good boy — good industrious boy,” said the doc- 
tor, patting his head gently, before taking up a little 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


69 


graduated glass, pouring in a small quantity from a 
bottle at the top of the shelves, and after turning 
it into a medicine glass, he filled up with water and 
drank it. 

Bob took the glass the doctor handed to him, 
smiling. 

“Good for a weary troubled old man, boy,” he 
said, “but it will kill you. Don’t touch — don’t touch 
— don’t touch.” 

He nodded and went back into the consulting- 
room, to compose himself upon the couch for his 
evening sleep, which he took according to custom, 
and from which he awoke refreshed and ready to 
work for hours, late into the night, at his wearisome 
chimerical task, with which he grew more infatuated 
the more his reason suggested that his work was 
vain. 

The boy began to whistle very softly as the doc- 
tor disappeared. Then he washed and wiped the 
glass, and put it back in its place ready for use. 
After this he threw himself upon the settee, took 
hold of his right leg with his left hand, by the ankle, 
dragged it up, and held it across his body rigidly as 
if it were a banjo, and began to strum imaginary 
strings with his right hand, while in a whisper he 
sang a song about a yaller gal somewhere in the 
south, with close-shut eyes and a long wide mouth, 
and so on, through seven verses, with a chorus to 
each, all of which seemed to afford him the greatest 
gratification, and which he supplemented by leap- 
ing up and going round the surgery, holding out the 
imaginary instrument for contributions. 

These were acknowledged with proper darky 
grimaces and grins, and seemed to be so abundant 


.70 


THE BAG OE DIAMONDS. 


that Bob returned to the settee, and this time played 
the bones with a couple of pair saved from a brisket 
of beef, but without making a sound. 

Another collection and another silent solo, this 
time on the tambourine, which the boy pretended 
to beat with frantic energy, ending by going on tip- 
toe to peep through the keyhole, and satisfy himself 
that the doctor was in a deep sleep. 

There was no doubt about that, so the boy’s hour 
or two of indulgence, on which he regularly counted, 
began. 

He dashed at the settee, threw it open, stooped 
down to take something out, but rose again, closed 
the lid, and listened as if afraid of being caught. 

Then shaking his head, he ran to the door, which 
opened into the lobby and then into the street, from 
which place he came, helping himself along by the 
wall to the settee, upon which he sank, and after 
lying down and laying his leg out carefully, he be- 
gan to play double parts, that of surgeon and patient. 
For, after feeling the leg and shaking his head, he 
said to himself, “ Ah, well soon put that right, my 
man.” 

Jumping up, he ran to a drawer, from which he 
brought splints and bandages, trotted back to the 
settee, and with ghastly minuteness — the result of 
having been present at an accident, and studious 
readings of Dr. Chart ley’s books — he proceeded to 
set a serious compound fracture, assuring himself 
that he bore it like a man, and that he need not be 
under the least apprehension, for in such a healthy 
subject the joint would knit together before long, 
and he would be as strong as ever. 

All this was in company with the business he was 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


71 


carrying on of applying the splints and bandaging 
the broken leg ; after which, by aid of the doctor’s 
walking-sticks, he limped to the door, as there was 
no one to carry him, thanked himself for his kind- 
ness, and in imagination departed, leaving himself in 
the character of the doctor, whose walk he imitated 
as he drew out a large pill-box, opene d it, and took 
a small pinch of magnesia as if it were snuff. 

Another peep at the doctor through the keyhole, 
and a run to the door, to make sure of there being 
no interruption there, and then the boy’s face as- 
sumed a very serious expression. He took the cloth 
from the little table in the corner, rolled up the 
hearthrug longwise, and tied it in two places with 
string, and then treating it as a patient, he laid it on 
the settee, and drew over it the table-cover. 

He was not satisfied, though, and getting a square 
of paper, such as would be used to wrap up a bottle 
of medicine, he poked his finger through twice for 
eyes, made a slit for a mouth, and puckered the pa- 
per for a nose. 

This rough mask he tied at the end of the long 
roll, drew the table-cover up to the face, and then 
came to see the patient, carried on an imaginary 
conversation with a colleague, and ended by going 
to a cupboard and getting out a long mahogany 
case. 

Bob’s reading for the past two years had not 
been the wholesome and unwholesome literature 
provided for our youth, but the contents of the doc- 
tor’s little library, the Lancet^ and the Medical Times. 
These proceedings were the offspring. 

To carry out the next proceedings. Bob took off 
his jacket and rolled up his sleeves; informed his 


72 


THE BAG OE DIAMONDS. 


colleague that it was a bad case — a diseased heart 
— and the only hope for the patient’s life was to 
take it out completely. 

This Bob proceeded to do with goblin-like delight. 
He turned the table-cover half down before open- 
ing the mahogany case, which contained a set of long 
amputating knives; and these he tried one after 
the other, to satisfy himself about the edge before 
commencing the operation, with great gusto, cut- 
ting the string that bound the hearthrug, making an 
incision, and extracting the heart. Next the place 
was sewn up, the cover replaced, the knives put away 
with horrible realism, the patient’s pulse felt and a 
little stimulus administered — the boy taking this 
himself — to wit, a little ammonia and water. 

Next the table-cover was drawn off, the hearthrug 
restored to its place ; and, grinning now hugely, Bob 
went to a drawer, and got out the doctor’s tooth- 
drawing instruments — for the doctor belonged to the 
old school, and in distant times had not been above 
removing a decayed and aching molar from a pa- 
tient’s jaw. 

The boy flourished the instruments about with 
evident enjoyment, going as far as to take a good 
hold of one of his teeth, but he refrained from pull- 
ing, and rubbed his half-numbed hands. 

It suddenly seemed to occur to him that he had 
not put on his jacket, and resuming this, and prov- 
ing its many buttons to be a sham, for it fastened in 
a feminine manner by means of a series of hooks and 
eyes, he made a bound to the settee, grinning with 
pleasure as he threw it open, dived down, and 
brought out a glistening white human skull, hand- 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 73 

ling it with a weird kind of delight painted in his 
face. 

He took the ghastly object, and fixed it upon a knob, 
one of those upon the back of the old-fashioned chair 
in the middle of the room, draped it round with the 
table-cover; and drew back to admire his handiwork. 

“Oh, if our ’Lisbeth would come in now!” he said, 
with a chuckle, as he rubbed his hands down his 
sides before proceeding to the greatest bit of enjoy- 
ment he had in his lonely life at the doctor’s. 

From the very first the doctor’s surgery and con- 
aulting-room had had a strange fascination for him, 
and whenever he was missing, the maid-of-all-work, 
who rarely showed her face out of the dim kitchen, 
knew that the boy would not be playing truant from 
his work or playing with other lads of his age, but 
would be found reading, dusting, or amusing him- 
self in the surgery, smelling bottles, opening drawers, 
or standing on a chair, gazing at the ghastly prep- 
arations in one or other of the row of glass jars. 

His pranks he managed to keep secret, arranging 
to enjoy them when the doctor was asleep, and he 
was not likely to be disturbed. 

The present was his favorite feat from its reality. 
There was something to go at, he always said, and 
for the hundredth time, perhaps, after performing 
the operation, and restoring with the help of a little 
gum, he took up the doctor’s tooth-key, fixed it 
carefully round a perfectly sound molar in the fine 
specimen upon whose excellences the doctor had be- 
fore now lectured to students, and steadying the 
skull, the boy pretended to engage in a terrible 
struggle ; then gave a quick twitch, and brought out 


74 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


the tooth, which he held with a smile as he struck 
an attitude before its silent owner. 

The boy had seemed goblin-like before, but as he 
now stood there before the glistening relic of mor- 
tality, over which he had partly thrown the corner 
of the table-cloth, the scene was weird and grim in 
the extreme ; for the one uncovered eye-socket 
seemed to leer at him in company with a ghastly 
grin, as if rejoicing at the relief the operation had 
afforded. 

“Now yer better, ain’t yer?” said Bob. “Eh? 
Ah, I thought you would be. He was a tight ’un. 
Some ’un coming.” 

Quick as thought, the boy snatched the skull from 
the back of the chair, slipped it into the long chest, 
closed the lid, thrust the tooth-key back into the 
drawer, and had thrown the cover on the table before 
the door at the end of the house-passage was opened, 
disclosing him, in spite of all his efforts, looking as 
if the mischief which lurked in the corners of his 
mouth, and flashed from his eyes, had been running 
to the full extent of its chain. 

CHAPTEE VII. 

AGONY POINT. 

“Is THAT all ? What a fuss over a little pain !” 

What many would say to a suffering friend when 
sound and well themselves. What Eichmond Chart- 
ley was ready to say to herself as she paced the room, 
with one hand pressed to her face, where the ago- 
nizing pain seemed to start as a centre, and then ram- 
ify in jerks through every nerve. 

Toothache, faceache, neuralgia, according to 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


75 


fashion, but maddening all the same. A pain born 
of care and anxiety, close confinement, abstinence, 
the damp unchanging foggy air, and settled in the 
face of a heroine, to take, as it were, all the romance 
out of her history. 

But there it was all the same, fiercely stabbing, 
jerking, as if some virulent little demon were hold- 
ing ends of the facial nerves in a pair of pincers, and 
waiting till the sufferer was a little calm for a few 
moments before giving the nerve a savage jig. 

After the tug a pause of sickening agony, and 
then that slow, red-hot suffering again, as if a blunt 
augur was being made to form a channel beneath the 
teeth, so that the aching pains, as of hot lead, might 
run round without let or hindrance. 

Neuralgia, with sleepless nights; neuralgia, with 
Hendon Chartley’s progress at the hospital; neuralgia, 
with the trouble about Janet; neuralgia, with James 
Poynter’s coarse vulgar face full of effrontery always 
before her, flaunting his possessions, his power, and 
his influence, and staring with parted lips over the 
words which somehow he had never yet dared to 
utter, but which sooner or later she knew must come. 

Neuralgia, with the constant dread that some day 
her father would indulge too deeply in the opiate 
she knew he took every evening ; neuralgia, with the 
constant carking care of the unpaid tradespeople ; 
and, above all, that wearisome aogny, mingled with 
the chilling heartache and those memories of the 
man from whom she had parted when in his ardent 
desire he had told her that it was for her sake he 
was going to leave England, to come back some day 
a rich man, and ask her to be his wife. 

“ Dead, dead, dead !” moaned Eich, as she paced 


76 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


the room; ‘‘and if I, too, could only be sleejiing, for 
it is more than I can bear !” 

But as the words left her lips, she threw her head 
back, and pressed her long hair from her face. 

“ What a coward I am !” she cried, “ with others 
looking to me for help, and shrinking from bearing 
a little pain !” 

She hurried to the door, telling herself that there 
was relief in the surgery for all she suffered ; but as 
she went along the dark passage to the door she felt 
that there was one only anodyne for the greater pain 
she bore. 

As she slowly approached there was a quick 
scuffling noise, a dull rattle as of something falling, 
and the loud closing of a heavy lid ; then, as she 
opened the door, she found Bob turning to meet her 
with an innocent smile upon his face, while he was 
uttering a low humming noise, as if he were practis- 
ing the art of imitating a musical bee. 

“What have you been doing. Bob?” said Bich 
hastily. 

“Me, Miss? Doing?” said the boy wonderingly. 
“ I ain’t a-been doing nothing. ’Tain’t likely, ’mong 
all these here dangerous thinks ; ” and Bob waved 
his hand round the surgery, as if indicating the bot- 
tles and specimen jars. 

“Because you have been warned frequently, sir, 
not to meddle.” 

“Course I have. Miss, and I wouldn’t do no 
harm.” 

“Is my father asleep?” 

“ Jist like a top. Miss. He took his drops, and 
he’s lying on the sofy, sleeping beautiful. You can 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


77 


hear him breathe if you come and put your ear to 
the keyhole.” 

“No, no,” saidBich hastily; but, all the same, she 
walked quickly to the consulting-room door, and 
opened it softly, to look in and see across the table, 
with its chemical apparatus, the light of the shaded 
lamp thrown upon the calm, placid, handsome face, 
as the doctor lay back on the couch, taking his drug- 
bought rest according to his nightly custom. 

Bich sighed and walked right in, the door closing 
behind her as she crossed the room, and stood gaz- 
ing down, her head bent, and hands clasped, wliile 
for the moment she forgot her nerve-pains, and the 
tears started to her eyes. 

“ Poor father !” she sighed; “ always so kind and 
gentle in spite of all. How do I know what he may 
suffer beneath the mask he wears?” 

She thought of the prosperity they had once en- 
joyed, the many patients who came, and how, in this 
very room, as a child, he used to play with her long 
curling hair, while she, with childlike delight, emp- 
tied the little wooden bowl, and counted how many 
guineas papa had received that morning. 

She recalled, too, the carriage in which she had sat 
waiting, while he, the handsome young doctor, had 
made his calls upon rich patients; and then, like a 
cloud, came creeping up the memories of the gradual 
decline of his practice, as he had devoted himself 
more and more to the dream of his life — this discovery 
of a vital fluid which should repair the waste of all 
disease, and with the indulgence in his chimera came 
the poverty and despair. 

“ Poor father !” she sighed again, bending down 


78 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


and kissing the broad white forehead; “there has 
never been anything between ns but love.” 

She rose slowly, went to a corner where a faded 
old dressing-gown hung upon a chair, and this she 
softly laid over the sleeping man, gazed at the fire, 
which was burning brightly, and then stole away 
with the agonizing pang, forgotten for the moment, 
sweeping back, and seeming to drive her mad. 

“ I see yer a-kissing of him. Miss,” said Bob, grin- 
ning, as she closed the door. 

Eich turned upon him angrily; but the boy was 
looking dreamily towards the doctor, and rubbing 
his shock head of hair. 

“ Don’t he look niste when he’s asleep like that ? 
There ain’t such a good-looking gent no where’s 
about here as our master.” 

There was so much genuine admiration in the boy’s 
tones that the angry look gave place to one of half 
amusement, half pity. 

“ I’ve often wondered whether if ever I’d had a 
father, he’d ha’ been like the doctor. Miss. Ain’t yer 
proud on him ?” 

“Yes, Bob, yes,” she cried, laying her hand upon 
the boy’s shoulder, while a strange sensation of de- 
pression, as of impending trouble, came over her, 
making her forget everything, and hardly notice the 
next act of the boy. 

It is hardly fair to say that Bob’s hands were 
dirty, but they were very coarse in grain, and dis- 
colored, the nails were worn down, and the fingers 
were blue with chilblains where they were not red 
with the chaps which roughened them ; and those 
were the hands which took hold of Eich’s and held 
it for a few moments against the boy’s cheek, while 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


79 


he rubbed the said cheek softly against the smooth 
palm, his bright eyes looking up at her as a spaniel 
might at its mistress. In fact, there was something 
dog-like and fawning in the ways of the lad, till the 
hand was drawn away. 

“ So’m I proud on him, Miss. He is a good ’un. 
For it’s like ’evin being here. Why, I’ve been here 
two years now, and he never kicked me once.” 

“And used you to be kicked before you came here. 
Bob ?” said Eich, feeling amused, in spite of herself, 
at the boy’s estimate of true happiness. 

“Kicked, Miss? Ha, ha, ha! Why, it was ’most 
all kicks when it warn’t pots. Old woman never 
kicked me; but when she’d had a drop, and couldn’t 
get no more, she was alius cross, and then she’d hit 
you with what come first — pewter pot, poker, any- 
thing, if you didn’t get out of the way.” 

Eich’s brow contracted, and then for the moment 
the pain neutralized that of the mind. 

“ But she didn’t often hit me,” said Bob, grinning. 

“ I used to get too sharp for her; and she didn’t 
mean no harm. Want me to do anything. Miss ?” 

“No, Bob, no,” said Eich, turning away to the 
shelves, where the bottles stood as in a chemist’s 
shop. “Poor boy! and the place is to him like 
heaven 1” she thought. 

“Want some physic. Miss?” said tho boy excitedly; 
“ which on ’em ? I knows ’most all on ’em now.” 

“ I want the belladonna,” said Eich, with her face 
contracted once more. 

“ Why, that’s one o’ they little bottles up a-top 
where they’re all pisons ! Whatcher want that for ?” 
said Bob suspiciously. Then, as he read her coun- 
tenance, “ Whatcher got — toothache ?” 


80 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


Eicli nodded. 

“ Here’ hold hard ! you can’t reach it, Miss. Let 
me get on a chair. Oh, I say ! Let me pull it out.” 

The boy’s eager sympathy and desire to afford re- 
lief, grotesque as it was, seemed so genuine, so grate- 
ful to the lonely girl, that she smiled at her poor 
coarse companion’s troubled face. 

“ No, no. Bob,” she said gently. 

“Wish I could have it instead,” he cried. “I do, 
s’elp me]” 

“ It will be better soon, Bob,” she said, as the boy 
climbed up and obtained the little stoppered bottle 
from the top shelf. 

“ That s good stuff for it. Miss,” said the boy. 
“ Bottle’s quite clean. I dusted all on ’em yesterday. 
Here, I know ! let me put some on. ” 

“ You, Bob ?” said Bich. 

“ Yes, Miss ; I know. I’ve seen the doctor do it 
twiced to gals as come and wanted him to pull out 
their teeth, and he wouldn’t. I’ll show yer.” 

Bob ran to a drawer and took out a camel-hair 
pencil, and operated with it dry upon his own face. 

“ I’ll show yer,” he cried. ‘‘You begins just in 
front o’ the ear and makes a round spot, and then 
yer goes on right down the cheek and along yer chin, 
just as if you was trying to paint whiskers. Let m 
do it, Miss.” 

Bich hesitated for a moment, and then sat down 
and held her face on one side, while the boy care- 
fully painted the place with the tincture, frowning 
the while and balancing himself upon the tips of his 
toes. 

“Stop a moment. Miss,” cried Bob. “Then he 
dropped two drops out o’ this here blue bottle on a 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


81 


bit o’ glass, and finished off with it jnst as you does 
with gum when you paint a picture.” 

Kich watched the boy anxiously as he took down 
a bottle labelled “ Chloroform,” but smiled and sub- 
mitted patiently as the painting operation was com- 
pleted. 

“ Feel better. Miss ?” said the boy. 

“ Not yet. Bob; but I daresay this will do it good 
Now put back those bottles, and don’t meddle with 

them, mind.” 

‘‘As if I didn’t know. Miss! Why, I’m up to all 
the doctor’s dodges now. There ain’t a bottle on 
any o’ them shelves I ain’t smelled; and look at them 
things in sperrits,” he continued, pointing to the 
various preparations standing upon one shelf, the 
relics of the doctor’s lecturing days. “ I knows ’em 
all by heart. I had to fill ’em with fresh sperrit once.” 

Kich turned and smiled at the boy as she reached 
the door; and then once more the young student was 
left alone, to go and peep through the keyhole to see 
if the doctor was fast asleep, and this being so, he 
ran to the door by the street, turned suddenly with 
his head on one side, raised his hands with the help- 
less, appealing gesture of the sick, and walked 
feebly to the cushioned chest, upon which he sank, 
with a low moan. 

It was a clever piece of acting, studied from na- 
ture, and sinking back, he lay for a moment or two 
sufficiently long for the supposed patient to com- 
pose himself, before he assumed another part. 

Leaping up, he went on tip-toe to the consulting- 
room again, peeped to see that all was right, and 

then, drawing himself up exactly as he had seen the 
doctor act scores of times, he slowly approached the 


82 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


settee, liis face full of smiliug interest, and sitting 
down in a chair beside the imaginary patient, he 
went through a magnificent piece of pantomine — so 
good that it was a pity there was no audience pres- 
ent to admire. For Bob had taken the doctor’s 
glasses from the chimney-piece, put them on, and 
bent over the patient. 

“Put out your tongue,” he said. “Hum — ha! 
yes! a little foul.” 

Then he felt an imaginary pulse, his head on one 
side, and an imaginary watch in his hand. 

“ That will do,” he said, returning the imaginary 
watch to its airy fob. “ Now sit up.” 

Bob’s ear was applied for a few moments to the 
phantom patient’s chest. 

“ Breathe hard. That’s it. Now more fully. Yes. 
Now a very long breath.” 

So real was the proceeding that a spectator would 
have filled up the void in his mind as Bob changed 
his position, holding his head now at the patient’s 
back. 

“Hah!” he ejaculated, as he rose. “A little con- 
gestion ! Stop a moment.” 

He fetched a stethoscope from the chimney-piece, 
but instead of using it at once, proceeded to lay his 
hand here and there upon his imaginary patient’s 
breast, and tap the back over and over again. 

“Hah!” he ejaculated once more, as he applied his 
stethoscope noAv aftera most accurate pantomimic un- 
buttoning of vest and opening of a shirt-front. “ Yes, 
a little congestion !” he said again ; and going back 
to the chimney-piece, he set the stethescope on end 
as if it were a little fancy candlestick, took up a 
morocco case, and unhooking it, extracted therefrom 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


83 


a tiny thermometer, whose bulb he placed beneath 
his patient’s arm-pit, and he was just about to see to 
what height the sufferer’s temperature had risen, 
when there were steps again, and the boy had hardly 
time to hide the little tester, when the door opened, 
and, with a wild, dilated look in her eyes, Kich ap- 
peared again. 

“ Get me a small bottle,” she said hastily. 

“Ain’t it no better, Miss?” 

“ Don’t talk to me !” cried Eich ; “ the pain is mad- 
dening. Is my father still asleep ?” 

“Yes, Miss ; shall I wake him ?” 

“No, no. The bottle — the bottle!” 

The boy hastily took a clean bottle from a drawer, 
and fitted it with a new cork from another, by which 
time, with the knowledge of one who had before now 
made up prescriptions for her father, Eich took down 
the chloral hydrate, and a graduated glass, pouring 
out a goodly quantity ready to transfer to the bottle 
the boy handed her, while he still retained the cork. 

This done, Eich returned the chloral hydrate to 
the shelf, and took down another bottle labelled quin^ 
sulpli. sol. From this she poured out a certain quan- 
tity, and by the time the glass had shed its last drop. 
Bob was ready to hand another and larger bottle, 
which he had taken down with eager haste, as if fear- 
ing she would be first. 

Eich glanced at it, saw that it was labelled aq. dest . , 
and filled up the medicine-bottle, the boy handing 
the cork, and then gazing sympathetically in the 
pain-drawn face before him. 

“ Hadn’t you better let me take it out. Miss ?” he 
said, but there was no smile in answer — no reply, 


84 


THE BAG OP DIAMONDS. 


Eicli hurrying away, while the boy listened to her 
footsteps. 

“Ain’t she got it!” he muttered, and he stood listen- 
ing still, for he heard voices at the end of the pas- 
sage. 

“ ’ Lisbeth,” he said, and there was a knock. 

The boy opened the passage door softly, and a 
voice said. 

“ I’ve cut you some bread and cheese; it’s on the 
kitchen table.” 

“ Goin’ to bed, ’ Lisbeth?” 

There was a grunt, and the sound of departing 
steps, while the boy stood gazing along the passage. 

“So are you?” he exclaimed, closing the door, 
“ Ain’t she got a temper I I can’t help my old woman 
coming. ’Tain’t my fault. I shouldn’t turn sulky if 
it was hern.” 

Bob did not go down for a moment, but stood 
thinking. Then he ran out softly, and down-stairs 
into the dark kitchen to fetch his supper, which he 
preferred to eat with the fragrant odors of drugs 
about him, and seated upon the chest which con- 
tained the grisly relics of mortality, and against' 
whose receptacle the boy’s heels softly drummed. 

The stale bread and hard Dutch cheese rapidly 
disappeared, the boy looking very stolid during the 
process of deglutition. Then his face lit up, and for 
a space he went through his pantomine again, seeing 
patients, pocketing their fees, dressing wounds, set- 
ting limbs, and, above all, prescribing a medicine 
which he compounded carefully, and, to give realism 
to the proceedings, himself took. 

It was not an objectionable medicine, being com- 
posed of small portions of tartaric acid and soda. 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


85 


dropped into a wineglass which contained so much 
water, into which had been dropped a little syrup of 
ginger, afterwards flavored with orange or lemon. 

Tiring of this at last, Bob turned to the settee, 
whose lid he had opened, and he had lifted out cer- 
tain anatomical specimens for his farther delecta- 
tion, when there was a sharp ring at the surgery 
bell, and an unmistakable sound in the consulting- 
room — a combination which made the boy leap up, 
and, quick as lightning, turn out the gas, which 
projected on its bracket just over the settee. 

This done, there was a rapid click or two of bones 
being replaced, the sound of the closing lid in the 
darkness, and by the time the consulting-room door 
was thrown open, and a warm glow of light shone 
across the surgery. Bob had effected his retreat. 

“ Lights out ?” said the doctor going back from 
the door, to return directly with a burning spill, 
when the gas once more illumined the gloomy sur- 
gery, and to this the doctor added the ruddy glow of 
the street lamp, as he opened the door of the little 
fog-filled lobby, which intervened between him and 
the street. 

CHAPTEE YIII. 

THE doctor’s guest. 

As Dr. Chartley’s hand was placed upon the latch 
the bell-handle creaked, and the wire was sawn to 
and fro, while the moment the door was opened a 
man in a soft slouch hat and pea-jacket, with an 
ulster thrown over his arm, laid his hand upon the 
doctor’s breast, thrusting him back, passing in 
quickly, and hastily closing and fastening the door. 


86 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


The doctor stood back more in surprise than alarm, 
as his visitor seemed to come in with a cloud of 
yellowish fog, which made him look indistinct and 
strange, an aspect heightened by his thick beard and 
moustache being CDvered with dew-like drops — the 
condensation of the heavy steaming breath that came 
from his nostrils as he panted hard, as one pants 
after a long run. 

“ May I ask — is any one ill?” exclaimed the doc- 
tor, to whom the sudden call at any hour of an ex- 
cited messenger was little matter of surprise. 

“ In, quick !” said the visitor hoarsely; and pres- 
sing the doctor back once more, he stood listening 
for a few moments as if for pursuers, and then, wild- 
eyed and strange, he followed Dr. Chartley into the 
surgery, closing the door and leaning back against it 
breathing heavily, his eyes staring wildly round, his 
sun-browned face twisting, while a nervous disposi- 
tion to start and run seemed to pervade him in every 
gesture. 

The fog and smoke which came in with him added 
to the strangeness of his aspect as he stood there ; 
his hair rather long, unkempt, and wet with fog ; his 
hands gloveless, and high boots spattered with mud 
and soaked with half-molten snow. There was more 
of the brigand in his aspect than of the honest man, 
and yet his drawn, agitated face was well featured 
and not unpleasing, besides which his wandering 
eyes suggested fear suffered, and not a likelihood of 
inspiring fear ; unless it should be, as the doctor 
surmised, that he was mad, and the pursuit he evi- 
dently feared were that of his keepers. 

It formed a strange picture — the bland, smooth 
shining-pated doctor facing this wild excited man. 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


87 


standing with his back to the door, his hands out- 
spread as if to keep it fast, and his head half turned 
as he listened for the sound of steps in the stillness 
of the winter night. 

“Will you be seated?” said the doctor blandly. 
“Can I be of any service ?” 

“Hush! Can you hear any thing ? There! that!” 
cried the new-comer, in an excited whisper. 
“ They’re coming !” 

“Yes; mad,” said the doctor to himself. Then 
aloud, “ The sound you hear is the dripping of the 
melting snow on the pavement.” 

“ Hah ! Are you sure?” 

“Oh, yes. Quite sure. Sit down, my dear sir. 
No, not here; come to my consulting-room. There is 
a fire.” 

The coolness of a doctor in dealing with ordinary 
delirium or insanity is in its way as heroic as the man- 
ner in which a soldier will face fire. To most men 
the advent of the strange visitor would have sug- 
gested calling in help or taking instant steps for 
self-preservations; but armed with weapons such as 
would prostrate his visitor should he prove inimical, 
the doctor calmly led the way into his consulting- 
room, poked the fire, turned up the lamp a little, and 
pointed to a chair, watching his visitor keenly the 
while to satisfy himself whether his behavior was 
the result of fever, drink, or an unbalanced brain. 

The man glared at the doctor for a moment, 
stepped quickly to the room-door, opened it, list- 
ened, drew back again, closed it, and slipped the bolt 
on the inside. 

Science-armed as he was, however, the doctor dis- 
played no sign of trepidation, but sat down, waiting 


88 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


till his visitor came quickly back, threw his ulster 
over the back of the chair set for him, sank into it 
with a groan, dropped his face into his hands, and 
burst into a hysterical fit of sobbing. 

“ Hah !” said the doctor, rising, and laying his 
hand upon the young man’s shoulder. “You seem 
overwrought, and — ” 

The stranger started back at the touch, and was 
about to spring up, a cry of fear escaping his lips ; 
and his slouched hat fell off, showing his wet brow, 
with the tangled hair clinging to it in a matted mass. 

“ I thought — ” he gasped. “ Ah, doctor, it is 
you !” 

“Yes, sir; sit down and let’s see. You seem quite 
exhausted.” 

• “ Don’t you know me, doctor ?” 

“ Know you ? Good heavens !” cried the doctor 
in astonishment. “ Mark Heath ?” 

“ Mark Heath,” said the visitor, sinking back with 
a groan. 

“We thought you must be dead,” said the doctor. 

“You thought I must be dead,” said the young 
man, passing his hand over his brow, and speaking 
in a strange and labored way. “ Yes, and I thought 
I must be dead — a dozen times over. I’m half dead 
now. What’s that ?” 

He almost yelled the last words as he started to 
his feet again, his eyes wild, his right hand clinched, 
and his left thrust into the breast, as if in search of 
a weapon. 

“I heard nothing,” said the doctor. “ Sit down.” 

“Some one in the street trying to get in.” 

“ No, no, no. Sit down, my dear boy. Come, 
come: what’s the matter ?” " ^ — 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


89 


“ Are you sure you cannot hear any one ?” 

“ Quite, and even if I could, no one could get in 
without I opened the door.” 

“ Hah!” ejaculated the young man, sinking down; 
brandy ! for God’s sake, brandy I” 

The doctor looked at him, hesitated, and ended by 
laying his hand upon his visitor’s pulse, as he sat 
gazing strangely at the door. 

If the doctor’s soft touch had been that of white- 
hot iron the effect could not have been greater, for 
with a smothered shriek the young man sprang from 
his chair and stood at bay by the door. 

“Why, Mark Heath, my good fellow, this will not 
do,” said the doctor blandly. “There, there, come 
and sit down. I was only feeling your pulse.” 

A faint smile came over the young man’s face, and 
he walked back to his chair. 

“1 thought it was one of those fiends,” he said, 
with a shudder. 

The doctor coupled the admission with the men- 
tion of the brandy, but he was not satisfied as to the 
symptoms, though, seeing his visitor’s exhaustion, 
he went to his closet and took out a spirit decanter, 
with tumblers, poured a little into one glass, and 
was about to add water to it from the little bright 
kettle singing on the hob, when the young man 
snatched at the glass, and tossed off the brandy at 
a gulp; but even as he was in the act of setting down 
the glass, he started and stared wildly round towards 
the door. 

“ Hist 1” he whispered. 

“Pooh! there is nothing, my dear sir,” said the 
doctor: “why, any one would think you were being 
hunted by the police.” 


90 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


“ Hunted ? Yes. ” cried the young man thrusting 
the glass from him, and leaning across and seizing 
the doctor’s wrist, “hunted — always hunted, but 
there were no police, doctor; why were they not near 
to protect me?” 

“Ah, yes,” said the doctor, to humor his patient, 
as with keen interest he watched every change in 
his mien. “ They are generally absent when wanted. 
So you have been hunted, eh ?” 

“Hunted 1 Yes ; like some miserable hare by the 
hounds. They are on my scent now. Night and day, 
doctor, night and day, till they have nearly driven 
me mad.” 

“Mad? Nonsense! Your brain is as sound as 
mine.” 

“ Yes, now ; but they will drive me mad. Night 
and day, I tell you — night and day, I have not dared 
to sleep,” continued the young man wildly; “no, I 
have not dared to sleep, for fear that I should not 
wake again.” 

“ Indeed, Heath 1 And who hunted you ?” 

“ Fiends — demons in human form. I have been 
so that I could not sleep for fear of them. They have 
always been on my track — on the road through the 
desert, across the mountains, at the port, on ship- 
board ; they appeared again here in England, at the 
docks, at the hotel, in the streets ; hunted, I tell you, 
till I have seemed to be hunted to death.” 

“ Be calm, my dear boy, be calm. Come, you must 
have sleep.” 

“ Sleep ? Yes, if I could only sleep ; but no, I 
could not — I could not — only drink, doctor, drink ; 
and it has never made me drunk, only keep me up 
— help me to escape from the devils.” 


TH’i: BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


91 


“Ah, you have drunk a good deal, then?” 

“ Yes ; brandy — brandy. It has been my only 
friend and support, doctor. I dared not go to an 
hotel ; I was afraid to trust a bank ; I had no friend 
to whom I could go ; and I swore I would trust my- 
self till I could get here safe in England.” 

“ Where you are safe now.” 

“ No, not yet, for they are tracking me. I got to 
Liverpool yesterday, and tried to throw them off ; 
but they followed me to the hotel, and I dared trust 
to one there. They might have said I was mad, and 
claimed me ; said I was a thief — a dozen things to 
get me into their hands.” 

“Be calm. Heath, be calm.” 

“ Calm ? How can a hunted man be calm with 
the jaws — the wet, hungry jaws — of the hounds on 
his heels — while he feels that in a moment they may 
spring upon him and rend him ? Oh, doctor, doc- 
tor, you never were a hunted man.” 

“No, no,” said the doctor blandly; “but we must 
master ourselves when we feel that excitement is 
leading us astray.” 

“ Ay, and I have mastered myself till I can do no 
more,” cried the young man wildly; “ I escaped from 
Liverpool. ” 

“Escaped ?” 

“ Yes, and managed to get to the train, as I thought, 
unseen; but at the first stopping station I saw the 
demons pass my carriage and look in. They had 
changed their dress, and disguised themselves, but I 
knew them at once, and that my attempts were vain. 
It was growing dark when we reached London, and 
when they took, the tickets I waited till the train 
went on again, and then leaped for my life.” 


92 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


“ You leaped from the train ?” 

“ Yes. I wonder I did not when it was at full speed, 
far away in the country.” 

“ Hah 1” ejaculated the doctor. 

“I leaped from the train; but they were watching 
me, and they followed down the embankment and 
into a maze of little streets in North London yonder, 
where the fog and snow bewildered me; but I kept on 
all the evening, fearing to ask help of the police, 
dreading to go to an hotel for dinner. The dread, 
the want of sleep, have made me nearly mad. I did 
not know where to go, and at last, after struggling 
wildly to escape, I knew that my brain was going, 
that before long the dogs would drag me down. Then 
in my despair I thought of you.” 

“ And came here ?” 

Yes, for sanctuary, doctor. Save me from these 
devils — save me from myself. Doctor, is this to be 
the end of it all? I am alone — helpless: they may 
be listening even now. Doctor, for God’s sake save 
me; I can do no more!” 

Trembling in every limb, wildly excited, and with 
his despair written in every lineament of his face, 
Mark Heath dropped from his chair, ard crept upon 
his knees before the doctor, holding up his clasped 
hands, and evidently so completely exhausted that 
he might have been mastered by a child. 

“ Yes, yes ; of course, of course I will,” said the 
doctor kindly. “ There, come and lie down here on 
this couch.” 

“Lie down?” said the young man, with a sus- 
picious look. 

“ To be sure ; it will rest you. You are quite safe 
here.” 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


93 


“Safe? Am I safe?” 

“ Of course,” said the doctor, spreading the fallen 
ulster over the young man’s shivering form, as he 
slowly lay down. 

“ Stop ! where are you going?” 

“ Only into the next room — the surgery,” said the 
doctor, turning to face his visitor’s fierce eyes as he 
started up from the couch. 

“ What for? Is it to admit those devils.” 

Mark Heath, in a fit of impotent rage, made a 
dash to roach the fireplace, but his feet were ham- 
pered by the ulster, and he would have fallen heavily 
had not the doctor caught him in his arms. 

“Why, man,” he said, “I was going to get you 
something to take — something to calm you. It is 
impossible for you to go on like this.” 

The young man looked at him wildly. 

“I can’t help it,” he said, calming down. “ I have 
been hunted till I am afraid of everybody. Save 
me, doctor, for you can.” 

“ Lie down, then; there: that’s better.” 

“ Yes. I am so helpless and so weak,” the poor 
fellow moaned. “ The brandy kept me up, but it 
makes me wild.” 

“ Then you shall have something that will calm 
you, and not make you wild,” said the doctor; and 
he went out of the room, leaving his visitor lying 
down with his eyes closed. 

But the moment he was alone, Mark Heath started 
up on one arm, listening, and thrust his hand into 
his breast. He was listening for the unlocking of a 
door ; but he heard the chink of a glass and the 
faint gurgle of some fluid, and he sank back with a 
sigh of relief. 


94 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


‘‘Eicli — my darling,” he said softly ; “ it is for you, 
sweet-^for you !” 

“ There,” said the doctor, reentering with a glass; 
“drink that, and you must have some sleep. We 
shall soon get you right.” 

“ Heaven bless you, doctor !” cried the young 
man, hysterically pressing his hand after draining 
the glass. “ I feel in sanctuary here. Ah,” he 
sighed, as he sank back, “ to be at rest once more, 
and safe ! Doctor, you must guard over me and 
what I have here.” 

“ Oh, yes,” said the doctor, sitting down after re- 
plenishing the fire. “ Did you have a rough passage 
back?” 

“ I don’t know — I know nothing but that those 
fiends were after me to get it, and I knew that they 
would kill me if they could only get a chance. A 
hunted hare sees nothing but the hounds.” 

“ No, of course not,” said the doctor, speaking 
softly to keep his patient’s attention, but watching 
him intently the while, to see the effect of his medi- 
cine. “Let’s see, you have been away four years.” 

“Yes, four years,” said Mark, speaking more 
calmly now. “Lost every penny, farming, doctor. 
No good.” 

“ I am sorry to hear that.” 

“Then I tried — wagon-driving, and made a res- 
pectable living— doing regular carter’s work till I 
had a team and wagon of my own; but I went one 
bad time — right across the desert, and found my- 
self at last — seated on the last bullock of my team 
of twenty — by the wreck of my wagon — doctor 
dying — for want of water.” 

“Ah ! that was bad.” 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


95 


“ Yes, but I was picked up by a party who came 
in the nick of time. They were going by a cross 
journey to the diamond fields.” 

“Ah! you went there?” 

“Yes, I went there,” said the young man drow- 
sily, and speaking in a restful manner and with 
many pauses. “Rough life, and for six months — no 
good. Then luck turned. I went on. At last found 
— self rich man. Rather absurd, doctor — handful 
of stones — stones, crystals — handful in a leather 
bag. Soon nothing. I often laughed. Seemed so 
much trash, but the right thing. Very large some 
of them, and I worked on — digging — and picking. 
Knew I was a wealthy man.” 

“You were very fortunate, then?” 

“Yes,” was the drowsy reply. “Then began the 
curse of it. Couldn’t keep it — secret. Found out 
that it was dangerous. Ought to have banked, but 
they were — were so hard to get. ’Fraid of everybody. 
Felt — felt should be murdered. Nearly drove — 
drove me wild. Made secret — secret plans — escape 
— get home — old England. To bring — to bring — bag 
of diamonds — leather bag — worth a deal — bring 
home myself. Followed — followed me. Three men 
— part of gang out there — gamble and cheat men — at 
play. Always — always-^on my track — hunted — at 
bay— ^ea — always watching — like tigers — Ah 1” 

He sprang up from his drowsy muttering state, in 
which he had been incoherently piercing together 
his imaginary or real adventures, and gazed wildly 
round. 

“Who’s that?” 

“ It is only I — Doctor Chartley. Lie down again.” 

“ I thought they’d come, and I — I was telling them. 


96 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


Bag of diamonds. No. Nonsense! All rubbish! 
Poor man. Going home. ’ Nough to pay his pas- 
sage. All nonsense. No diamonds; no nothing. L’ 

He had sunk back once more, and went on mut- 
tering as he dropped asleep. 

The doctor sat watching him, and then rose and 
tapped the fire together, picking up a few fresh 
pieces of coal to augment the blaze, which seemed 
to send some of the fog out of the room. 

“Wild dissipation — gambling with Nature for 
treasure,” said the doctor softly. “Imagination. 
Poor wretch 1” 

The doctor bent down over his patient, who was 
now sleeping deeply, but had tossed the ulster aside, 
so that it was gliding down. 

“ Curious, this wild delirium,” said the doctor, re- 
arranging the improvised cover. “ I often wonder 
that I have not made it a study and — Good 
heavens I ” 

He started back from the couch, and stood staring 
at his patient for a few minutes before advancing 
again, and laying his hand upon his breast gently, 
and then thrusting it beneath the fold of the thick 
pea-jacket. 

“ It is not delirium ; they — ” 

The doctor hesitated a few moments after draw- 
ing back from the couch once more. Then, witli his 
whole manner changed, he thrust his hand into the 
sleeping man’s breast, glanced round, and, satisfied 
that he was not overlooked, drew forth a good-sized 
washleather bag, simply tied round the neck with a 
strip of the same skin. 

“ Stones,” muttered the doctor, with his face agi- 
tated and his eyes glittering; and after balancing 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


97 


the bag in his hand and glancing at the sleeping man, 
he placed it upon the table, where the light of the 
lamp was upon it full. 

Then ensued a period of hesitation, the doctor^s 
fingers worked as he stood gazing down at the little 
yellowish-drab bag, and anon at his patient. 

Then the newly awakened curiosity prevailed, and, 
unable to contain himself, he rapidly untied the 
string, drew open the bag, and saw that it was nearly 
full of large rough crystals, which sparkled in a 
feeble way in the light. 

“ Why, they must be worth a large sum,” mut- 
tered the doctor, pouring out some of the stones 
into his hand, but pouring them back with a shud- 
der. “ How horrible !” 

He did not say what was horrible, but hastily retied 
the bag and placed it back in the sleeping man’s 
breast, before hurrying out into the surgery, and 
pacing to and fro in an agitated way. 

CHAPTEK IX. 

THE STBANGE ACCIDENT. 

A CHANGE seemed to have come over Doctor Chart- 
ley. A short time before he was calm and placid, 
his movements were slow, and a pleasant stereo- 
typed professional smile made his handsome face 
beani. But now all was changed ; the smile had 
gone, and, as he had passed to and fro, the light 
from the gas bracket displayed a countenance puck- 
ered with curious lines and frowns, while tlie varia- 
tions of shadow caused by his coi^stantly-changing 
position seemed to have altered him into another 
man. 


98 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


He went back into tlie consulting-room, and 
looked at his patient, to find him breathing more 
easily and plunged into a deep sleep ; and as he bent 
over him his hand stole toward the prostrate man’s 
breast. 

He snatched it away angrily, and returned to the 
surgery, to resume his hurried walk, muttering to 
himself, his thoughts finding utterance in sound, till 
he started and looked about him, as if in dread of 
being overheard. 

Stealing back to the consulting-room, he went to 
the closet, and took out the bottle which contained 
the result of his studies, and looked at it with a sigh. 
Then he raised the retort and its stand from the 
shelf, shook his hpad, and replaced it. 

“And if I only had money,” he thought, “I could 
carry out my experiments at my ease, and succeed. 
This miserable poverty would be no more; my chil- 
dren would be happy; and I should win a name 
which would become immortal.” 

He shook his head, his brow grew darker, and a 
terrible temptation attacked him. 

“ No one saw him come here. It is his fancy that 
he has been followed. One life. What is one life 
in this vast world ? One life. Why, my discovery 
perfected would be the saving of the lives of thou- 
sands, hundreds of thousands, of generations of 
human beings in this teeming earth. Suppose he 
slept and waked no more? Ah !” 

The doctor stood gazing down at the sleeping man. 

“ Such temptations come to all,” he said softly ; 
“ and I have seen so many die that the passing away 
of one — well, what is it but the deep long sleep into 
which I could make him glide without pain ? 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


99 


“Ah, and afterwards ? Poor lad! He came to me 
for sanctuary, and I had betrayed my trust. How 
could Hook in the face of my son again — in the eyes 
of my girl ? Those clear eyes would read my secret, 
and I should be as one accurst.” 

He bent down over the sleeping man again, and in 
spite of himself his hand stole gently towards his 
heart, trembling. 

“They are worth thousands,” he said, “and they 
lie there as if of the value of a few pence. He came 
to me for refuge. Well, he shall not find that I have 
failed.” 

There was no tremor in his hand now as he re- 
arranged the cover over Mark Heath’s breast, to 
stand afterwards calmly watching his guest ; and 
then to go out into the surgery, turn down the gas, 
and slowly pace the floor, thinking deeply. 

Every inch of the surgery was so familiar that the 
darkness was the same to him as the light, and the 
bitter coldness of the place seemed to refresh him. 

At the end of a few minutes he stood perfectly 
still, thinking; and then going to one of the shelves, 
he ran his hand softly along the top row of small 
bottles, took one, and turned down the gas. 

As he entered the consulting-room again, he 
glanced at the label, nodded his head in a satisfied 
manner, and after a glance at his patient he seemed 
to make up his mind what to do. 

“Perhaps I shall sleep,” he thought,“and if I do 
he may wake. It will be a simple way.” 

He smiled as he took the glass into which he had 
previously poured the brandy, and poured in a little 
more, to which he added sugar, and half filled the 
glass with hot water from the kettle. 


100 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


“He will be sure to drink tliat,” he said, as he re- 
placed the glass within easy reach of the sofa; and 
then removing the stopper from the blue bottle he 
held, replaced it partly in the neck, rested it upon the 
edge of the steaming glass, and began to count the 
drops which fell. 

One — two — three. 

Each drop at an interval after the one which had 
preceded it, while with his left hand he steadied the 
tumbler. 

As the third drop fell into the glass there was a 
strange noise outside — a dull scuffling of feet, mut- 
terings of voices, and then a low imperious tapping 
on the panel of the door. 

At the first sound the doctor turned his head 
sharply and gazed in the direction of the door, while 
the rest of his body seemed to have become fixed in 
a cataleptic state, save that his eyes dilated and his 
jaw dropped. 

And meanwhile, slowly and steadily, drip — drip 
— drip — drip, the globules of fiuid fell from the tip 
of the blue bottle into the steaming glass at last in 
quite a stream. 

A strange dread had overcome the doctor. His 
patient’s words about his diamonds had proved to 
be true; were the rest, then, true — that he had been 
pursued by men whose aim it was to plunder, 
perhaps murd^^ him, and they had really traced him 
down here ? 

“Bah! ami turning childish?” said the doctor, 
starting up, and letting the stopper fall back into 
its place in the bottle, just as his patient moaned 
slightly, turned impatiently in his sleep, and the 
ulster glided to the floor.” 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


101 


Tlie doctor stooped quickly, raised it, and threw 
it over his patient, and, as he bent over him, listened 
intently to the repetition of the tapping. 

“ It might be,” he said softly .> “ Pish I absurd ! 

The wanderings of a diseased mind.” 

Catching up the bottle from where he had placed 
it on the table, he walked quickly towards the door, 
paused, returned, and stooped as if to pick up the 
poker. Then smiled at his folly. 

He passed softly out of the door, and closed it after 
him, to go to the shelves in the dark, where he made 
a clicking noise among the bottles, as he reached up; 
for there in the darkness the feeling once more as- 
sailed him that his patient might be right, while for 
the third time, more plainly heard now, there came 
a sharp tapping. 

The doctor crossed to the gas bracket, turned it 
up, and as its light filled the surgery, he walked 
boldly to the lobby door, opened it, and the dull red 
glare from the fanlight over the outer door shone 
upon his handsome placid face. 

The next moment he had opened the outer door, 
and was gazing at a group of three men. 

Mark Heath’s announcement flashed through his 
brain once more, and then gave place to the ideas 
furnished by his visitors. 

“ Thought you were a-bed. Couldn’t find the bell. 
This cursed fog, sir. Our friend here knocked down 
by a cab, and we saw your red light as we were try- 
ing to get him to our hotel.” 

“Tut, tut, tut!” ejaculated the doctor. “Bring 
him in, gentlemen.” 

He glanced at his visitors. Saw that they were 
well-dressed men in ulsters and low-crowned hats. 


102 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


and that the speaker was a weil-built fellow with a 
closely -cut beard; while another was a rather 
Mephistophelean -looking man, with cheeks closely 
shaven, and upper lip bearing a bristly moustache. 

Between them they supported a slight, young- 
looking companion, who was moaning slightly, but 
evidently making an effort to be firm. 

“Mind, Harry — Eogers,” he said, in a high- 
pitched voice, “ it’s as if something red hot was run- 
ning through my chest! Ah-h-h!” 

“ Support him, gentlemen,” said the doctor. 
“ Mind he doesn’t faint. Here, quick 1 Here !” 

He spoke in sharp, decided tones, as he directed 
and helped them to lay the injured man upon the 
settee, where he subsided with a querulous cry, 
grinding his teeth the while, and compressing his 
lips. 

“ Kindly shut both doors,” said the doctor; and 
the man who had first spoken, and who looked very 
pale, obeyed. 

“So cursedly unlucky 1” he said excitedly. “I 
never saw such a fog. They’ve no business to allow 
men to drive fast on a night like this.” 

“ Don’t talk, old chap. Not serious, I hope, doc- 
tor ?” said the Mephistophelean man. “ Cab seemed 
to come out of the fog, and he was knocked down. I 
got an ugly blow on the shoulder.” 

“ Get me some brandy,” said the injured man 
faintly. “ My chest’s crushed.” 

“ No, no, not so bad as that,” said the doctor 
kindly. “ You shall have a stimulus soon. Now, 
then, suppose we see what the damage is. A broken 
rib, I expect, and that will only mean a . little pain. 
Now, then.” , 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


103 


His busy fingers were rapidly and tenderly unbut- 
toning the injured man’s coat, while a gasping moan 
came from his lips. 

Hurts me horribly — to breathe, doctor.” 

There was a gasping sound, and the Mephisto- 
phelean man reeled, tried to save himself, and fell 
against the consulting-room door, which somehow 
fiew open, revealing the sleeping figure of Mark 
Heath on the couch. 

“ My dear sir — faint?” 

“I beg your pardon,” doctor, said the sinister-look- 
ing man. “ Sick as a great girl. I can bear pain, but 
to see him like that turned me over. No, no, see to 
him; I’m better now.” 

The doctor continued his task, while the door 
swung to once more. 

“Still feel faint ?” said the doctor, without look- 
ing up. 

“ Oh, no ; it’s all gone now. I really am ashamed.” 

“Nothing to be ashamed of, my dear sir. It is a 
man’s nature. Now I shall be obliged to ask one of 
you to lend me a little assistance here.” 

The bearded man stood ready, and exchanged a 
glance with his Mephistophelean companion, who 
was behind the doctor now. 

“Ah !” 

Dr. Chartley uttered a quick ejaculation, for, as he 
bent over his patient, the man behind struck him a 
heavy blow wi th a short thick life-preserver, and, 
quick almost as lightning, delivered another crash- 
ing stroke on the back of the head. 

Without so much as a groan, merely a catching at 
the air, the doctor fell forward upon his supposed 
patient, and then rolled with a dull * heavy sound 


104 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


upon the carpet, to lie motionless — to all appearance 
dead. 

“ Yah ! what a butcher you are, Eogers !” said 
the sham patient, in a querulous high-pitched tone. 

“ Hold your row ! Quick! Listen at that door.” 

The sham patient sprang to the door at the end of 
the passage, opened it softly, and stood listening. 

“All right,” he whispered, “ still as death.” 

“ Curse you 1 hold your row about death,” whis- 
pered the other as the door was closed. “ Lock it.” 

“ I was going to,” said the younger man, turning 
the key softly. “ Is he there, Harry ? ” 

“ Yes ; all right,” came in a whisper from the 
bearded man, who had softly opened the consult- 
ing-room door and peered in at the sleeping figure 
upon the couch. “ Quick I come on.” 

The man addressed as Rogers had stooped down 
and then gone on one knee, thrusting the life-pre- 
server into his pocket while he examined the doctor, 
and not noticing that it slipped out on to the skirt of 
his coat, and rolled aside as he finished his exam- 
ination, and satisfied himself that there was nothing 
to be apprehended there. 

He started up, and followed his companion on tip- 
toe, and the next minute they were gazing down at 
the man they had tracked from the diamond-fields 
and run to earth at last. 

“Hah!” exclaimed the Mephistopheles of the 
party; “ that’s right. Give him one if he moves.” 

This to his bearded companion, who had drawn a 
life-preserver similar to that his companion had 
used, as he bent over the sleeping man. 

“ He has had a dose,” was whispered back. “ You 
can smell his breath.” 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


105 


‘‘ Brandy. All right !” cried the youngest of the 
three, catching up the decanter, smelling it, tasting 
it with a loud smack of the lips, and pouring out a 
goodly portion in the empty glass, he handed it to 
his first companion. “ Here, Harry.” 

“ Sure it’s all right ?” was whispered back. 

“ Swear it. Now, Rogers.” 

“ Here’s mine,” said the man, with a grin. “ Hot 
with. Quick, lads!” 

“ Don’t touch that,” was on the younger man’s 
lips; but his companion raised the glass with a laugh, 
and as he followed his example by putting the de- 
canter to his mouth, the doctor’s assailant literally 
poured the contents of the tumbler down his throat, 
and then stood still, put the glass back on the table, 
gasping and staring straight before him. 

His companions were not heeding him, for each 
drank eagerly of the brandy, and were setting down 
the decanter and glass, when the younger man spoke; 

“ Why, Rogers, old chap !” 

The man addressed turned his wild staring eyes 
at him for a moment, as if to answer, and then walked 
blindly between the sofa and the table, as if to go 
straight to the wall, reeled and fell, catching at the 
cloth, which he dragged aside, „ nearly causing the 
lamp to go crashing on the floor. 

For a few moments the others stood aghast, staring 
at their prostrate companion, who writhed slightly 
for a brief period, uttering a curious sound, and then 
lay upon his back, stretched out motionless. 

The younger man was the first to recover himself. 

“ Help !” he gasped, in a hoarse whisper. 

“ Hush I” cried his companion ; “are you mad ?” 

He raised his life-preserver threateningly, and the 


106 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


other gazed at him with ghastly face and staring 
eyes. 

“ What shall we do ?” he whispered. 

“ Keep your head, and don’t be a fool,” was the 
reply. 

As the bearded man spoke he went down on one 
knee, thrust his hand into his comrade’s breast, 
and then rose quickly. 

“What is it, Harry — poison?” 

“Yes, grim death, lad.” 

“Then, we’ve got it, too.” 

“No — all right. The fool ! Smell that glass.' 

He took up and held the tumbler to his nose, and 
then passed it to his companion, who smelt it, and 
put it down with a shudder. 

“Come on,” he panted; let’s getaway.” 

“ Without the diamonds — now ?” 

“I’m no use,” groaned the younger man. 

“ Hold up, curse you ! It’s fortune of war. One 
man down. Prize-money to divide between two 
instead of three.” 

“ Hah!” ejaculated the other, upon whom his com- 
rade’s words acted like magic. “ I’m all right, now. 
Quick I let’s have ’em 1” 

The elder man had already thrust his hand into 
Mark’s breast. 

“Well ?” 

“All right.” 

“Are they there?” 

“Yes; safe enough.” 

“Get ’em out, then, and let’s go. Curse it ! Look 
at old Rogers’ eyes.” 

There was a dull heavy sound of a door banged, 
and the two men started up in an agony of dread 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


107 


that the spoil for which they had toiled so patiently 
and long, never getting it within their clutch till 
now, was about to be snatched away. 

It was a door that had been banged, and in their 
ignorance of the configuration of the place they did 
not realize that it was in the next house. 

“ Keep your head,” said the elder man. 

‘‘ Kight. I’m cool enough,” was the reply. 
“ Quick ! get ’em out, and let’s go ! ” 

“ It would take half an hour to get at them. He 
has a belt buckled round his waist under every- 
thing, and there’ll be stones sewn into his clothes 
all over.” 

“Curse it all!” 

“ Hush 1 Quick I Take hold of that ulster, and 
there’s his hat.” 

“ What are you going to do? ” 

“We’ve got him. He’s drugged, and we can do 
what we like.” 

“ What ! bring him away ? ” 

“Yes. Quick 1 take hold of that arm I ” 

“ But if he wakes ? ” 

“ Send him to sleep, as we did the doctor. Now, 
hold your row, do as I do, and keep your head.” 

The younger man obeyed, and catching Mark 
Heath’s arm, as his companion had done on the 
other side, they placed his hat upon his head, and in 
a half-conscious way he made an effort to walk, so 
that they had no difficulty in getting him into the 
surgery. 

“ Now, then, button-up. I’ll hold him,” said the 
elder man. 

“But when we get him in the street ?” whispered 
the other. 


108 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


“Well — what? He’s drunk. We’ll get him in a 
cab. No one will interfere. Leave it to me, and 
back me up. Quick I shut that door ; and then turn 
on the light.” 

The orders were obeyed ; and as soon as they 
stood in the darkness the lobby-door was opened, 
where the red light gave them sufficient illumination 
to finish their proceedings. 

Another minute, and, their victim’s arm well 
gripped on either side, the elder man said hoarsely, 

“ Eeady ?” 

“Yes; but are you sure that he had the stuff on 
him?” 

“ Trust me for that. Now, be cool, and the dia- 
monds are ours. Off!” 

The outer door was opened, and with very little 
difficulty Mark Heath was half-lifted, half-led out- 
side, in an inert, helpless condition, his brain steeped 
in sleep, and his mind a blank. Then the two men 
stood in the snow, listening for a sound within the 
house. 

It was the elder who spoke then: 

“ Get your arm well under him. Hold hard ! 
Shut the door. Mind he don’t slip down. It’s dark 
as pitch. Now, then, come on.” 

At that moment J ohn Whyley turned on his lamp. 

CHAPTEK X. 

“ay, maery is’t; crowner’s quest law.’ 

A JURY of men, chosen with the careful selection 
always made by the coroner’s officer, and with such 
extraordinary happy results, sat solemnly and lis- 
tened to the evidence, after hearing the coroner’s pre- 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 109 

liminary address, and viewing the body of the de- 
ceased. 

Witness by witness, all were examined. John 
Why ley told all he knew, and produced the life- 
preserver; Richmond Chartley, brought from her 
father’s bedside, where he lay perfectly insensible, 
gave her account of the proceedings, and directly 
after joined Janet Heath, who was her companion, 
and sat down to try once more to disentangle her 
thoughts, which, from the time she had left the sur- 
gery with the bottle of chloral till she was alarmed 
by the persistent ringing of the doctor’s night-bell, 
had been in a state of wild confusion. 

Hendon Chartley gave his evidence. How he had 
been spending the evening with a gentleman of 
his acquaintance, and on letting himself in with his 
latch-key he had heard voices in the surgery, and 
gone there. 

Mr. James Poynter, the gentleman with whom 
Hendon Chartley had been dining corroborated the 
last witness, and seemed disgusted that he had not 
a better part to play, esj)ecially after his announce- 
ment to the coroner that he was a great friend of the 
family. 

For some reason of their own, the sapient jurymen 
exchanged glances several times during the evidence 
of the last two witnesses, and shook their heads, 
while one man began to make notes on the sheet of 
paper before him with a very scratchy pen where- 
upon two more immediately caught the complaint, 
and the foreman regretted to himself that he wasn’t 
as handy with ink as he could wish. 

The surgeon was of course a very important wit- 
ness, and he told how the man upon whose body 


110 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


the inquest was being held had undoubtedly died 
of an excessive dose of hydrocyanic acid, of which 
poison there was, naturally enough, a bottle in the 
doctor’s surgery; but how it had been administered, 
whether by accident, purposely, or with suicidal in- 
tent, it was impossible to say; and apparently the 
only man who could throw any light upon the sub- 
ject was Doctor Chartley himself, who was now 
lying in a precarious state, perfectly insensible from 
the pressure of bone upon the brain, and too feeble 
for an operation to be performed. 

“ Not the only man,” said one of the jury; “ three 
men were seen by the policeman to leave the surgery.” 

The coroner said “ Exactly ; ” and there was a 
murmur of assent ; while, after stating that it was 
impossible to say how long Dr. Chartley would be 
before he could appear, and that it Avas quite possi- 
ble that he would never be able to give evidence at 
all, the surgeon’s evidence came to an end. 

Elizabeth Gundry was called ; and a frightened- 
looking smudgy woman came forward, trembling and 
fighting hard not to burst into tears, hysterical sob- 
bing having filled up so much of her time since the 
foggy night that her. voice had degenerated into an 
appealing whine. She was .smudgy-looking, but 
undoubtedly clean ; only life in underground kitch- 
ens, and the ingraining of London blacks with the* 
baking process of cookery, had given her skin an 
unwholesome tinge, which her reddened eyes did 
not improve. 

Questioned, she knew nothing but that she 
thought she had heard the doctor’s bell ring ; but 
that she always put her head under the clothes if 
she did hear it, and she did so that night. Further 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


Ill 


questioned why, she said with sobs that it was a very 
large house, and nobody was kept but her and Bob ; 
and she was “ that tired when she went to bed that 
she thought it weren’t fair to expect her to get up 
and answer the night-bell, and so she never would 
hear it if it rang. It warn’t her place ; for though 
she did housemaid’s work, and there was two sets of 
front-door steps, she considered herself a cook.” 

Here there was a furious burst of sobbing, and the 
foreman of the jury wanted to know why. 

Now he, being a pleasant-looking man, won upon 
Elizabeth Gundry more than the coroner did, that 
gentleman being suggestive of an extremely sharp 
ratting terrier grown fat.. So Elizabeth informed 
the foreman that her grief was, of course, partly on 
account of master, and she thought it very shocking 
for there to be a murder in “ our house but what 
she wanted to know was what had become of Bob, 
whom she was sure one of those bad men had smug- 
gled away under his coat. 

Of course, this brought Bob to the front, and, 
growing garrulous now, Elizabeth informed every- 
body that Bob was a regular limb, but evidently a 
favorite; and since Bob had answered her out of the 
surgery regarding his supper. Bob had not been 
seen or heard of, and it was her opinion that he 
had been killed, so as not to tell all he knew. 

Bob’s bed had not been slept in; Bob’s hat was 
hanging in the pantry, and the police had not been 
able to discover where Bob had gone. 

The mystery seemed to thicken, and Elizabeth 
was questioned till she broke down sobbing once 
more, after declaring that Bob was the mischiev- 
ousest young imp as ever lived, but she was very 


112 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


fond of him; and if it haden’t been for his wicked 
old tipsy mother, who was no better than a thief, 
there weren’t a dearer, more lovable boy in the “old 
world.” 

The sergeant of police and John Why ley made 
notes, afterwards compared, about Bob and his 
mother, and Elizabeth went off crying and refusing 
to be comforted because of Bob. 

Then the sergeant stated perspiringly in the hot 
room, buttoned up in his coat, that the cabman had 
been found ; and in due course a red-nosed, prom- 
inent-eyed member of the four-wheeled fraternity 
corroborated John Whyley’s evidence as to the three 
men whom he took in his cab. He reiterated the 
statement that “ one on ’em was very tight ; ” told 
that he drove them to an hotel in Surrey Street, 
close to the Embankment, and corrected himself as 
to the driving, because “ You see, gents, it was like 
this here : the fog was that thick, if you sat on the 
box you couldn’t see the ’oss’s tail, let alone his 
ears, and you had to lead him all the way.” 

Bid the men go into the hotel ? 

He couldn’t say ; they helped out the one as was 
so very tight, and they gave him arf-suff’rin — first 
money he’d took that night, and the last, on account 
of the fog. 

And where did the three men go — into the hotel ? 

He. didn’t know ; they seemed to him to go into 
the fog. Everythink went into the fog that night or 
come out on it. It was all fog as you might ’most 
ha’ cut with a knife ; and when he had a wash next 
morning, his face was that black with the sut you 
might ha’ took him for a sweep. 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


113 


But tlie man who seemed to be drunk, did he say 
anythin g ? 

Not a word. 

Would he know the men again ? 

Not likely; and besides, if he took notice of all 
parties as was very tight, and as he took home in his 
keb, he’d have enough to do. That there fog was 
so thick that — 

The coroner said that would do, and after the 
people at the hotel had been called to prove that 
no one had entered their place after eleven o’clock 
that night, and that the bell had not been rung, the 
coroner said that the case would have for the present 
to be left in the hands of the police, who would, he 
hoped, elucidate what was at present one of the mys- 
teries of our great city. He did not think he was 
justified in starting a theory of his own as to the 
causes of the dramatic scene that must have taken 
place in Dr. Chartley’s surgery. They were met to 
investigate the causes of the de ath of this man, who 
was at present unknown. No doubt the police would 
be able to trace the three men who left the surgery 
that night, and during the adjournment Dr. Chartley 
would probably recover; and so on, and soon; along 
harangue in which it seemed as if the fog, of which 
so much mention had been made, had got into the 
evidence. 

Finally the coroner said that he did not think he 
should be doing his duty if he did not mark the 
feeling he had with respect to the conduct of the 
police-constable John Whyley. 

The gentleman in question glowed, for he felt 
that he had suddenly become a prominent person- 
age, with chevrons upon his arm to denote his rise 


114 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


in rank. Then lie froze, and his face assumed a 
terribly blank expression, for the coroner went on 
to say that never in the whole course of his experience, 
which now extended over a quarter of a century, had 
he been cognizant of such utterly craas stupidity as 
that of this policeman — a man who, in his opinion, 
ought to be dismissed from the force. 

John Whyley wished a wicked wish after the jury 
had been dismissed, and orders given for the burial 
of the Mephistophelean-looking man, lying so stiff 
and ghastly in the parish shell — and John Whyley’s 
wish was that it had been the coroner instead of 
Doctor Chartley who had got “ that one — two on the 
nob.” 


CHAPTEE XI. 

MR, POYNTER POLISHES HIS HAT. 

James Poynter rang four times at Dr. Chartley’s 
door-bell, and rapped as many at the great grinning 
knocker tied in flannel, before he heard the chain 
put up and the lock shot back, to display the 
smudgy unwholesome countenance of Elizabeth 
Gundry, who alway s blinked like a night-bird when 
forced to leave her dark kitchen. 

“ There, hang it, woman, open the door !” cried 
Poynter. “ Do you take me for a thief?” 

“No, sir, I didn’t know it was you ; but I am so 
scared, sir, and they ain’t found Bob yet.” 

Elizabeth did not hear what James Poynter said 
about Bob, for she closed the door, took down the 
chain, opened slowly and grudgingly, and the visitor 
entered. 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


115 


“ How’s tlie doctor ?” 

“ Awful, please, sir, just ; lie’s there with his eyes 
shet, as if he was going to die, and Miss Eich and 
Miss Janet taking it in turns to sit up night and 
day.” 

“Ask Miss Chartley to come down and see me.” 
I “Which, please, sir, she said as she couldn’t see 
nobody now.” 

I “You go and do as I tell you.” 

^ “Which it ain’t my place, sir, to answer the front 
door-bell at all. Poor Bob !” 

She ended with a sob, and put her apron to her 
eyes. “I say,” said Poynter, giving her apron a 
twitch and dragging it down, “ look here.” 

“ Well, I’m sure !” began Elizabeth indignantly. 

“Look here ; have your wages been paid?” 

“Lor’, no, sir, not for ever so long,” said Eliza- 
beth, with an air of surprise at the absurdity of the 
question. 

“ Then look here, Elizabeth : you know what I 
come here for, don’t you ?” 

“ I think I can guess, sir,” said the woman, sud- 
denly becoming interested and smiling weakly. 

“ Of course you can. You’re a sharp ’un, that’s 
what you are. So look here : the day I’m married 
I’ll pay your wages, and I’ll give you a fi’-pun note 
to buy yourself a new bonnet and gown. Now go 
up and say I’m waiting to see Miss Eichmond on 
particular business.” 

Elizabeth’s eyes opened widely, and there was a 
peculiar look of satisfaction therein as she closed 
the door, led the way into the dining-room, and then, 
after giving the visitor a nod of intelligence, she 
left him to go up-stairs and deliver her message. 


116 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


“Pall! how the place smells!” muttered Poynter. 
“ Any one would think that chap was here now. A 
nasty, damp, fusty hole !” 

He listened eagerly, but the step he hoped to hear 
was not coming, and he began to walk up and down, 
twisting his silk handkerchief round, and polishing 
his glossy hat the while. 

“ Pm screwed up now,” he muttered. “ I’m not 
afraid of her. She can’t say no, but if she does, she’s 
got to learn something. Perhaps she don’t know 
what putting on the screw means, and I shall have 
to teach her. All for her good. Hah !” 

There was no mistake now; a step was descending 
the stairs, and James Poynter once more looked 
round for a mirror for a final glance; but there was 
nothing of the kind on the blank walls, and he had 
to face Richmond unfurbished. 

She entered the room, looking quite calm, but very 
pale, and the blue rings about her eyes told of her 
sufferings and anxiety. There was a slight height- 
ening of her color, though, for a few moments, as 
the visitor advanced with extended hand, in which 
she placed hers for a few moments before motioning 
him to a seat. 

“ How’s the doctor ?” he said huskily, and then 
coughed to clear his throat. 

“ Yery, very ill, Mr. Poynter,” was the reply. “ I 
am sorry, but I must ask you to please see Doctor 
Maurice, who has promised to attend any of my 
father’s patients if they called.” 

“Oh! bother Doctor Maurice! I’m better now. 
Quite well.” 

James Poynter had partaken of the greater por- 
tion of a bottle of champagne before he came, so as 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


117 


to screw liimself up, as he termed it ; and there was 
plenty of decision of a rude and vulgar type as he 
spoke. 

“ I beg your pardon ; I thought you had come to 
consult my father. You have come to see how he 
was ? ” 

“No, I didn’t? You know what I Ve come for.” 

Bichmond did know, and perfectly well; but as 
she scorned to make use of farther subterfuge, she 
remained silent. 

“ I’m a plain fellow. Miss Kich, and I know what’s 
what,” he said, “ Hendon and I’ve had lots of chats 
together about money matters, and you want money 
now.” 

“ Mr. Poynter !” 

“Now, now, now! sit down, and don’t get in a 
wax, my dear, with a man who has come as a friend. 
I’m well enough off now, but I know the time when 
a half-crown seemed riches, and if a friend had come 
to me, I’d ha’ said ‘ Bless yer !’ ” 

“ If you have come as a friend of my brother, Mr. 
Poynter, I am grateful.” 

“ Now, don’t put me on one side like that. Miss 
]^ich — don’t. I have come as a friend — the best of 
friends. I know what things are, and that you’re 
pushed for money.” 

“ Mr. Poynter !” indignantly. 

“ Yes, I know what you are going to say. ’Tain’t 
put delicate. Can’t help that. I’m a City man of 
business ; but if it ain’t put delicately it’s put honest. 
We don’t put things delicately in the City.” 

“ I have no doubt of your intentions, Mr. Poynter, 
and I am grateful.” 

“ Thank you, and that’s right. Now, don t kick 


118 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


at what I’m going to say, and let it hurt your pride, 
because it is only between you and your best friend 
— the man as loves you. There, I came to say that, 
and I’m glad it’s out.” 

“Mr. Poynter,” said Kich hastily, “I am worn out. 
I am ill. I have that terrible trouble in the house. 
It is not the time to speak to me like this.” 

“ That’s where you’re wrong, my dear ; for when 
should your best friend come if it isn’t when you’re 
sick; and so pushed for money that you don’t know 
where to turn ? ” 

“ Oh, the shame of it !” moaned Eich to herself, 
as her eyes flashed with mortification, while Poynter 
went on polishing his hat. 

“ You see I know all about it, and I want to show 
you that I’m no fine-weather friend.” 

“Mr. Poynter I have told you that I am ill; will 
you please to bring this visit to an end ? I — I can- 
not bear it.” 

“ Yes, you can,” he said, in what was meant to be 
a soothing tone; “let’s have it over at once, and 
have done with it. I wont hurry you. I only want 
to feel that it will be some day before long; and till 
then here’s my hand, and it don’t come to you empty. 
Say what’s troubling you, and what you want to pay, 
and there’s my check for it. I don’t care how much 
it is.” 

“Mr. Poynter,” cried Eich, “you force me to 
speak out. I cannot take your help, and what you 
wish is impossible.” 

“ Oh, no, it isn’t !” he said, smiling, and leaving 
his handkerchief hanging on his hat as he tried to 
take her hand, which she withdrew; “ I saw the doc- 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 119 

tor the other day, before this upset. We had a 
long chat over it, and he was willing.” 

“ What ! my father willing ?” 

“ To give his consent? Yes.” 

“ It is impossible !” cried Eich. 

“ Oh, no, it isn’t, and what’s more, Hendon and I 
have often chatted this over together, and he’s will- 
ing, too. Now, I say, what is the use of making a 
fuss over it ? There, we understand one another, 
and I want to help you at once.” 

“Mr. Poynter,” cried Eich, “I now calmly and 
firmly tell you that what you wish can never take 
place. Will you allow me to pass ?” 

“No,” said Poynter, flushing angrily, “I won’t. 
Now, don’t put me in a temper over this by being 
foolish. What’s the good of it ? You know it’s for 
the best, and that as my wife you can help the old 
man, and get your brother on. See what a practice 
you could buy Hendon by and by.” 

“ Mr. Poynter, I have already told you, I can say 
no more.” 

“ Don’t say any more, then,” he cried, barring her 
way of exit, as he gave his hat a final polish, and 
pocketed his handkerchief. “ I respect you — no, I 
love you all the more for holding out ; but there’s 
been enough of it now, so let’s talk sensibly. Come, 
I say. Why, after this upset some men would have 
fought shy of the place, even if you’d had a fortune. 
I don’t : I come to you quite humble, and say what 
shall I do for you first ?” 

Eich stood before him pale, and with her eyes 
flashing in a way that penetrated even the thick hide 
of his vanity, and was unmistakable. 


120 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


“Look here,” he said angrily, “don’t go on like 
that. It makes a fellow feel put out.” 

Eichmond once more essayed to leave the room, 
but Poynter stayed her. 

“ Look here,” he said, “ I’m a City man, I am. I 
began life with nothing, but I said to myself I’d 
make my fortune, and I’ve made it. While other 
fellows were fooling about, I worked till I could afford 
to do as they did, and then, perhaps, I had my turn. 
Then I saw you, and when I had seen you I said to 
myself that’s the woman for my wife.” 

“ Mr. Poynter ! ” 

“ Yes, and some day it shall be Mrs. Poynter. I 
said it should, and so it shall ! ” 

“Mr. Poynter, will you leave this house ? ” 

“No, I won’t,” he replied bitterly, “ not till you’ve 
thrown all this nonsense aside, and made friends. 
What a temper ! Now, look here, Eich, I’ve been 
afraid of you. I’ve come here to see the doctor, and 
I’ve shivered when I’ve seen you. I’ve wanted to 
speak to you, but my tongue has seemed to stick to 
the roof of my mouth ; but that’s all over now, and 
we’re going to understand one another before I go.” 

“Sir, this is insolence !” 

“Insolence !” he said, with the champagne effer- 
vescing as it were, in his veins. “No, it’s love.” 

Eichmond rang the bell. 

“ Bah !” he said, “ what of that ? When the girl 
comes — if she does — I shall tell her to go, for I mean 
to be master here now.” 

“ Coward !” 

“No, not a coward now,” he replied, laughing. 
“ Eich, do you know what I can do if I like ? I can 


•THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 121 

come down on brother Hendon for all he owes me, 
and how would it be then?” 

Richmond winced, and the flush in her cheeks 
paled away, while Poynter saw it, and went on: 

“What should you say if I was to act like a busi- 
ness man would, and come down on your father !” 

“ What? My father ! He does not owe you money?” 

“ Doesn’t he ! ” said Poynter, with a mocking laugh. 
“You see you don’t know everything, my dear. 
Come, what’s it going to be — peace or war? ” 

“ War ! ” said Richmond flrmly. “ My father can- 
not owe you money, and as to my brother, he would 
sooner die than see his sister sold as a slave to pay 
his debts.” 

“Would he?” snarled Poynter. “Why he’s as 
weak as water ; I can turn him around my thumb. 
You tried to keep him away. He wouldn’t own it ; 
but I know. He came, though, all the same, when I 
asked him ; and he will come, too, as often as I like, 
and he’ll help me to make you — Bah ! nonsense ! 
Come, don’t let’s talk like this : you’re out of sorts, 
and no wonder, and I’ve come at a bad time. To- 
morrow you’ll be cool, and you’ll put that little hand 
in mine, and say, ‘ James Poynter, you’ve acted like, 
a man and my best friend, and I won’t say no.’ ” 

He tried to take her hand, but she shrank from 
him. 

“Sir, I beg that you will not come here again,” 
she said, drawing herself up. “ I am not blind to 
your position with my brother, but — ” 

“ Your brother’s a weak-minded young fool !” 
cried Poynter, who had now thoroughly become 
roused, so withering was the contempt written in 
Rich’s eyes ; “and — ” 


122 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


He stopped short, for in the heat of the encounter 
neither had heard the latch-key in the front door, 
nor the opening of that of the room, to admit Hen- 
don Chartley, who stood still for a few moments, 
and then strode to his sister’s side and put his arm 
round her. 

Yes,” he said hoarsely, “I have been a weak 
young fool, James Poynter, to let you play with me 
as you pleased; but please God, with my sister’s 
help, I’m going to be strong now, and if you don’t 
leave this house I’ll kick you out.” 

“ You kick me out ! snarled Poynter, snatching his 
handkerchief from his pocket and polishing his hat 
savagely; ‘‘not you! So it’s going to be war, is it? 
Why, if I liked — There, you needn’t threaten. 
I’m not going to quarrel with you, my lad, because 
we’re going to be brothers.” 

“Brothers 1” cried Hendon, in tones of contempt. 

“Yes, my lad, brothers. I’ve gone the right way 
to work, and you know it, too. There, we’re all pep- 
pery now. Rich, my dear, you know what I’ve said. 
I’m not angry. It was only a flash, and you won’t 
like me any the worse for speaking out like a man. 
Next time I come we shall be better friends.” 

He gave his hat a flnal polish, flourished his 
handkerchief, and left the room. 

“Hendon, Hendon, what have you done?” cried 
Richmond, as soon as they were alone. “ Had we 
not trouble enough without this ? ” 

“ The cad !” cried Hendon angrily. 

“And after what had passed you went to him 
again !” 

“How could I help it?” said the young man, with 
a groan. “I owe him money, and it’s like a chain 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


123 


about my neck. He tugs it, and I’m obliged to 

go-” 

“ And be binted that our poor father was in bis 
debt.” 

“ Tbe governor ? Ob, Ricb !” 

Hicbmond said nothing, but returned to her watch- 
ing by her father’s pillow, asking herself whether 
the chain was being fitted to her own limbs, and 
whether, to save those she loved, she was to become 
this man’s slave. 


CHAPTER XII. 

THE DREAMS OF A FEVER. 

A DREAMY sensation of cold and thick darkness 
and stumbling on and on, with a dull light glowing 
about his head and fading away directly, then more 
darkness and stumbling on, and once more a dull 
yellow glow, and this fading away, with the darkness 
increasing. Then a slight struggle, and a few petu- 
lant remonstrances. 

Why wouldn’t the doctor let him sleep ? 

Then another feeble struggle, a sensation of pass- 
ing through the air, a sudden plunge into the icy 
water, and then utter darkness, and a noise, as if of 
thunder, in his ears. 

But the sudden immersion was electric in its ef- 
fect, sending a thrill through nerve and muscle, 
though the brain remained still drowsily inert, while 
the natural instinct of desire for life chased away 
the helpless state of collapse ; and Mark Heath, old 
athlete, expert swimmer, man hardened by his life 
in the southern colony, rose to the surface, and 


124 


THE BAH OE DIAMONDS. 


struck out, swimming slowly aud meclianically, as if 
it were the natural action of his muscles. 

On and on, breasting the icy water, keeping just 
afloat, but progressing blindly where the tide willed; 
on and on through the darkness, with the yellow 
fog hanging like a solid bank a few feet above his 
head, as if the rushing of the water were cutting the 
lower stratum away. 

Now a yellow light shone weirdly through the 
mist, came into sight, and after glowing for a moment 
on the murky current, died away. 

On still, as if it were the tide — that last tide which 
sweeps away the parting spirit — stroke after stroke, 
given mechanically; and then there was another 
light — a dull red light, then an angry glow — a stain 
as of blood upon the black water ; and it, too, died 
away, but not till it had bathed the upturned face 
with its crimson hu€^. 

Onward still, the icy water thrilling the swimmer 
through and through, but seeming to bring with it 
no dread, no ‘sense of horror, no recollection of the 
past, no fear of what was to come : the sensation was 
that he was swimming as one swims without effort 
in a dream. 

A blow from some dark slimy object along whose 
side he glided, and then on once more. 

Another blow against something which checked 
him for a time, and turned him face downward, so 
that the thundering recommenced in his ears ; there 
was the sense of strangulation ; and then he was 
steadily swimming on once more, past moored barge 
with its lights, past steamboat pontoon ; and then 
with a rush he was driven against a stone pier ; his 
hands grasped at the slimy stones without avail, he 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


125 


was turned in an eddy around and around, sucked 
under, and rose again, to swim on and on, till at last, 
in the darkness, his hands touched the muddy peb- 
bles of the river shore, his knees struck heavily, and 
he crawled through a pool, and then staggered to 
his feet, with the water streaming from him. 

What next ? It was all as in a dream, in which, 
in the gloom of the thick night, he stumbled upon 
a flight of slippery steps, and walked up and up, 
and then along a road which he crossed again and 
again, and always walking on and on. 

At times he guided himself by mechanically touch- 
ing a cold rough stony wall, till somehow it was dif- 
ferent and felt slippery, and his hand glided over 
the side. 

Then darkness, and a sense -of wandering. How 
long ? Where ? Why was he* wandering on ? 

It was all a dream, but changed to a time when hia 
head was as it were on Are, hnd he was climbing 
mountains where diamonds glistened at the top, but 
which he could not reach, though he was ever climb- 
ing, with the sun burning into his brain, and the 
diamonds that he must find farther and farther away. 

And so on, and so on, in one long weary journey, 
to reach that which he could not attain, and at last 
oblivion — soft, sweet, restful oblivion— with nothing 
wrong, nothing a trouble, no weariness or care: it 
was rest, sweet rest, after that toilsome climb. 

The next sensation was of a cool soft hand upon 
his brow, and Mark Heath opened his eyes, to gaze 
into those of a pale, grave-looking woman in white, 
curiously-shaped cap; and she smiled at the look of 
intelligence in his face as he said softly. 


126 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


“ Who are you?” 

“Your nurse,’’ was the reply. 

' “ Nurse ?” 

One word only, but a chapter in its inquiring tone. 

“ Yes,” she said gently ; “ you have been ill. Don’t 
try to talk. Take this, and lie quite still.” 

Another long, dreamy time, during which there 
were noises about his head — the gentle, pleasant 
voice of his nurse, and the firm, decisive voice of 
the doctor. It might have been hours, it might 
have been days or weeks, he did not know; and then 
came the morning when he seemed to awaken from 
a long disturbed sleep, full of terrible dreams, with 
a full realization of his position. 

He looked about him, and there were people in 
beds on either side, while a row of windows started 
from opposite to him, and went on right and left. 

At last he saw the face of the woman whom he 
felt that he had seen leaning over him in his dream. 

She came to his bedside. 

“Well?” she said, with a pleasant smile. 

“ Is this a hospital ?” he said eagerly. 

“Yes.” 

“ And I have met with some accident — hurt ?” 

“No,” was the reply; “not an accident. You 
have been ill.” 

“ 111 ? How came I here ?” 

He looked wildly in the calm soft face before him, 
and behind it there seemed to be a dense mental 
mist which he could not penetrate. There was the 
nurse ; and as he lay, it seemed to him that he could 
think as far as her presence there, and no further. 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 127 

“ You had better wait till the doctor has been 
round.” 

“ If you don’t tell me what all this means,” he 
said impetuously, “you will make me' warse.” 

She laid her hand upon his forehead, to find that 
it was perfectly cool, and he caught her fingers in 
his as she was drawing them away. 

“ Don’t keep me in suspense,” he said piteously. 

“ Well, I will tell you. The police brought you 
here a fortnight ago. They found you lying in a 
doorway, drenched with water and fast asleep. You 
were quite delirious, and you have been very ill.” 

“111? Yes, I feel so weak,” he muttered, as he 
struggled to penetrate the mist which seemed to 
shut him in, till the nurse’s next words gave him a 
clue to the way out. 

“We do not even know who you are ; only that 
they suppose you to be a sailor who has just left 
his ship.” 

“Heath — Mark Heath,” he said quickly. 

“ Ah ! And your friends ? We want to commu- 
nicate with them.” 

“My friends! No: it would frighten her, poor 
little girl 1” 

“The cause for alarm is passed,” said the nurse 
gravely. 

“Yes. Ah! I begin to recollect now,” he said. 

“ Send to Miss Heath — my sister — 19 Upper Bruns- 
wick Avenue, Bloomsbury.” 

“Yes ; and now lie still.” 

The nurse left him, and he lay thinking, and grad- 
ually finding in the mist the pieces of the puzzle of 
his past adventure, till he seemed to have them 
nearly all there. 


128 


THE BAG OE DIAMONDS. 


Then came tiie doctor with a few words of encour- 
agement. 

“ You’ll do now,” he said. “ Narrow escape of 
losing your hair, young fellow. Next time you come 
from sea don’t touch the drink.” 

Mark Heath layback thinking, and with the puz- 
zle pretty well fitted together now, all but what had 
happened since, half wild with exhaustion and ex- 
citement, he had taken refuge at Doctor Ghartley’s. 

“Don’t touch the didnk!” he muttered. “He 
thinks I have had D. T. Well, I did drink — brandy. 
I had some- Yes ; I remember now — at the doctor’s, 
and — Great Heavens ! ” 

He paused, with his hands pressed to his fore- 
head ; and now the light had come back clearly. 

He lay waiting till the nurse passed round again, 
and he signed to her to come to his side. 

“ You have sent to my sister ?” 

“Yes; a messenger has been sent.” 

“My clothes?” he said, in an eager whisper. 
■‘Where are they?” 

“ They have been taken care of quite safely.” 

“ And the bag, and the belt — the cash-belt I had 
strapped round my waist ?” 

“I will make inquiries.” 

The nurse went away, and Mark Heath lay in an 
agony of spirit which he could hardly control till 
her return, to announce that he had nothing what- 
ever upon him in the way of bag or money when 
found by the police. 

Mark lay as if stunned till the messenger returned 
with the intelligence that Miss Heath had left the 
lodgings indicated; that the people there were new, 
and could give ho information whatever. 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


129 


** Bufc you have other friends,” said the nurse, as she 
looked down pityingly in the patient’s agitated face. 

Yes,” he said, ‘‘I have friends. Write for me 
to—” 

He paused for a few moments, with a hysterical 
sob rising to his lips as he recalled how he had 
struggled to return to her‘ wealthy, and had come 
back a beggar. 

“Yes, to — ” 

The gently-spoken inquiry roused him, and he 
went on, 

“To Miss Kichmond— ” 

“ Richmond ? ” said the nurse, looking up inquir- 
ingly as she took down the name in a little memo- 
randum-book, 

“ Miss Richmond Chartley, 27 Ramillies Street, 
Queen’s Square, Bloomsbury, to beg her to find and 
send my sister here.” 

The nurse smiled, and left him to his thoughts, 
which now came freely enough — too freely to help 
him to convalescence. 

It was late in the evening when the nurse came to 
announce that there were visitors ; and after a few 
grave firm words, bidding him be calm, she left him, 
and returned with Janet and Richmond, both trem- 
bling and agitated, to grasp his hands, and fight hard 
against the desire to throw themselves sobbing upon 
his breast. 

The nurse remained, not from curiosity, but to 
watch over her patient, whom she had literally 
dragged from the grasp of death, while, after the first 
loving words, Mark Heath gazed at Richmond in a 
troubled way, and proceeded to tell of his ad- 
ventures. 


130 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


“ But did you really bring back a bag of diamonds, 
Mark, or is it — ” 

“Fancy?” he said bitterly. “No ; it is no fancy. 
I have been delirious, Jenny ; but I am sane enough 
now. I had the bag of diamonds, and over a hun- 
dred pounds in gold, in a belt about my waist. 
Bich, darling, I was silent during these past two 
years ; for I vowed that I would not write again till 
I could come back to you and say I have fulfilled 
my promise, and now I have come to you a beggar.” 

“Yes,” said Bichmond, laying her hand in his, as 
an ineffably sweet look of content beamed from her 
eyes in his, and there was tender yearning love in 
every tone of her sweet deep voice ; “ but you have 
come back alive after we had long mourned you as 
dead.” 

“Better that I had been,” he said bitterly. “Bet- 
ter that that dark night’s work had been completed 
than I should have come back a beggar.” 

Janet and Bichmond exchanged glances, which 
with a sick man’s suspicion he noted, and his brow 
contracted. 

“They doubt me,” he thought. 

“ But you have come back, Mark. We are young, 
and there is our life before us. I do not complain,” 
said Bichmond gently. “We must wait.” 

‘^Wait!” he said bitterly; and he uttered a low 
groan, which made the nurse approach. 

“ No, no,” he said, “ I will be quite calm.” 

The nurse drew back. 

“ Tell me, Mark,” said Janet, with her pretty little 
earnest face puckered up. “ Why did you not come 
straight to me?. How stupid! Of course you did 
not know where, as you did not get my last letters.” 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 131 

“No, I have had no letters for a year. How could 
I, out in that desert?” 

“But, Mark, you recollect being pursued by those 
men!” 

“ Yes, yes.” 

“ You are sure it was not a dream ?” 

He looked at her almost fiercely. 

“ Dream ? Could a man dream a thing like that ?” 

“Don’t be cross with me, dear Mark,” she said, 
laying her cheek against his. “ It seems so strange, 
and you have been very, very ill. My own darling 
brother I” 

It was not jealousy, but something very near akin, 
that troubled Eich as she stood there, with an in- 
tense longing to take her friend’s place, after the 
long parting. But there was the recollection that 
their parting had not been the warm passionate em- 
bracing of lovers, only calm and full of the hope of 
what might be. 

Janet continued: 

“And you went late at night through a dreadful 
fog, and took refuge with a friend?” 

“Yes,” he said, with his features contracting, and 
a shudder passing through him, as he g^zed fur- 
tively at Eich. 

“ And what can you recollect besides ? Are you 
sure you had what you say — diamonds and money ?” 

“Yes, I am certain.” 

“I never wore diamonds,” said Janet, with her 
pretty white forehead growing more puckered, “ and 
I don’t want any; but after being so poor, and with 
one’s dearest friends so poor, and when it would 
make every one so happy, I should like you to find 
them again.” 


132 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


Mark uttered a low groan. 

“But tell me, Mark, wliat else canyon recollect?” 

“Very little,” he said. “It all seems misty; but 
I recollect drinking something.” 

“Brandy, Mark?” 

“ Yes; and afterwards a medicine that was to calm 
me, for I was half mad with excitement.” 

“Yes; go on.” 

“ Then everything is confused: I seemed to fall 
asleep— a long restful sleep, that was broken by my 
taking a long journey.” 

“Yes, but that was dreaming, dear.” 

“Maybe,” he said. “ and then I was swimming — 
swimming for life — and then toiling on and on, a long 
weary journey under a hot sun to get my diamonds.” 

“Yes, dear, fever,” said Janet, with the tears 
streaming down her cheeks. “Oh, Mark, what 
you have suffered ! Eich, love, do you hear?” 

“ Yes — yes,” cried Eich, who seemed to be roused 
from a strange dream, in which she was fighting to 
recall another of which she had a misty recollection 
— a dream that troubled her on the night she took 
the chloral, when half mad with pain. 

“You have seen and borne so much, dear,” said 
Janet piteously. “Was not all this about tUe bag 
of diamonds and those people a feverish dream ?” 

“ Jenny, do you want to drive me mad? ” 

“ My own dear old darling brother, no,” she whis- 
pered caressingly ; and once more that strange half- 
jealous feeling swept like a hot breath of wind 
across Eich, making her pale face flush. “I only 
want to make you see things rightly, and not fret 
about a fancy.” 

“I tell you it was no fancy,” he said angrily; and 


THE BAG OP DIAMONDS. 


133 


then, as the nurse held up a warning hand, “ All 
right,” he added, “ I’ll be calm.” 

“Say something to him, Bich,” said Janet pit- 
eously. 

Eioh started, and then took Mark’s hand. “You 
say that you went to the house of a friend ?” she 
whispered. 

“ Ye — es,” he replied hesitatingly. 

“ And that you partook of some medicine that was 
to make you sleep ?” 

He bowed his head slowly. 

“And that your next clear recollection is of lying 
here, where you were brought after being found de- 
lirious by the police ?” 

“Yes, yes,” he said impatiently. 

“Bobbed?” 

“ Stripped of everything,” he said bitterly. 

“It could not have beena friend, then, with whom 
you took refuge,” said Bich. 

Mark was silent. 

“ Must it not have been a dream ?” said Janet in a 
whisper to her companion. 

“No,” said Bich aloud. “I think that all Mark 
recollects before he took this medicine must be true, 
and that this friend must have drugged him.” 

Mark drew a long, catching breath between his 
teeth. 

“And robbed him while he slept.” 

Mark’s breast rose and fell as if he were suffering 
some great emotion, and he stared at Bich wildly, 
his hand twitching and his lip quivering as he 
waited for her next speech, which seemed to crush 
him, as she asked in a clear firm voice. 

“ Who was the friend to whose house you went ?” 


134 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


He looked at her wildly, with the thoughts of the 
consequences of telling her that which he believed 
to be the truth — that Dr. Chartley — her father — the 
father of the woman he passionately loved — had 
drugged him — taken the treasure for which he had 
fought so hard, and then cast him forth feverish 
and delirious into the river to die. For he realized 
it now : he had been swimming ; he could even re- 
call the very plunge ; he had been cast into the 
river to drown, and somehow he must have struggled 
out. 

“ Who was the friend, Mark ?” she said again, in 
her calm firm way. 

“Yes, who was it?” cried Janet, with her little 
lips compressed. “ You are right, Bich. Some one 
did do this dreadful thing. Who was it, Mark?” 

The sick man turned from her with a shudder, 
while she, all excitement now, pressed his hard 
hand. 

“ Tell us, Mark dear, that he may be punished, 
and made to restore what he has stolen.” 

“ No, no ! ” he said excitedly; “ I cannot tell you. 
I — I do not know.” 

“ Try and recollect, Mark,” said Bich gently ; and 
she looked in his face with an appealing smile. 

“ No, no ! ” he gasped, as he shuddered again; “it 
is impossible. I — I do not know. And Heaven for- 
give me for my lie ! ” he muttered, as he sharply 
withdrew his hands, sank back upon his pillow, and 
covered his face. 

“ He must be left now,” said the nurse firmly. 

“ He is very weak, and your visit is proving painful. 
Say good-night to him. You can come to-morrow. 
He will be stronger after a night’s rest.” 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 135 

“But — there is no danger ? ” whispered Kich, as 
she caught the sister’s hand. 

“ No ; the danger is past, but he must be kept 
quiet. Say good-night.” 

Janet bent down and kissed her brother lovingly ; 
and as she drew back from his pallid drawn face, 
Bich took her place and held out her hand. 

Mark caught it in both his, and there was an 
agonized look in his eyes. 

“ Bich,” he whispered passionately, “ I have come 
back to you a beggar, after fighting so hard. Heaven 
knows how hard, and what I am suffering for your 
sake. I cannot tell you more. I only say, believe 
in me and trust in me. Kiss me, my love — my 
love.” 

Bichmond Chartley’s pale face deepened, but she 
did not hesitate. There were patients here and there 
who lay witnessing the scene, and there were others 
present ; but at that moment the world seemed very 
small, and they two the only living creatures it con- 
tained, as she bent down, passed her arm beneath 
his neck, and for the first time her lips met his. 

“ Bich — poor — what does it matter, Mark ? ” she 
whispered, with her warm breath seeming to caress 
his cheek. “ You have come back to me, as it were, 
from the dead.” 

She drew down her veil as she rose from the part- 
ing, and the nurse’s quick experienced eyes noted 
the restful happy look that had come over her pa- 
tient’s face. 

“ Good-bye,” she said to the two visitors. “ May 
I?” 

Bich leaned forward, and the two women kissed. 

“I had some one once whom I dearly loved. It 


136 


THE BAG OP DIAMONDS. 


pleased God that he should die — for his country — 
trying to save a brother officer’s life. Good-bye, 
dear. You are the best physician for him now. 
Come back soon.” 

Jaiiet impulsively threw her arms about the sister’s 
neck and kissed her. 

“ And I never thanked you for your care of my 
poor brother,” she said. “ But tell me, he is still 
a little wandering, is he not ?” 

“I could not help hearing all that passed,” was 
the reply. “ It was my duty to be present. I have, 
of course, had some experience of such cases, and 
I fear that he must have been drinking heavily in 
riotous company, and these ideas have become im- 
pressed upon his brain.” 

“And they are fancies?” 

“ I think so, but as he grows stronger these ideas 

will weaken, and you, his sister — and you Ah, men 

are sometimes very weak, but to whom should they 
come for forgiveness when weak and repentant, if not 
to us ?” 

“ But I won’t believe my Mark has been going on 
as she hinted,” said Janet, through her tears, as she 
walked away, weeping bitterly, and clinging tightly 
to Eich’s arm. 

“No; it is impossible,” replied Eich; and with the 
feeling upon her that it washer duty to suffer for all 
in turn, and be calm and patient, she fought down 
her own longing to burst into a passionate fit of 
weeping, and walked on to resume her watch by her 
father’s side, where he lay still insensible, as if in a 
sleep which must end in death. 

“Eich dear, if it is true, and poor Mark was drugged 


THE BAG OP DIAMONDS. 137 

and robbed, the wretch who did it shall be brought 
to justice, shall he not ?” 

“ Yes,” said Rich, as she clasped the weeping girl 
to her breast. 

And as she sat there in the silent chamber, 
through the dark watches of the night, at times a 
feeling of exultation and joy filled her breast, while 
at others a hot pang of rage shot through her, and 
she felt that she could slay the wretch who had 
raised a hand against him who had returned to her 
as from the dead. 


CHAPTER Xm. 

JANET IS HAUNTED. 

A FORTNIGHT passed, and Mark was able to join 
his sister at her lodging, from which she was out all 
day. 

It was very hard work, that lesson-giving at dif- 
ferent houses, but little Janet trudged on from place 
to place, rarely ever traveling by omnibus unless ab- 
solutely obliged, so that she might economize and 
make her earnings help out her income of twenty- 
one pounds per annum. 

Rather a small sum in London, but it was safe. 
Seven hundred pounds’ worth of stock in the Three 
per Cents., and bringing in ten pounds ten shillings 
every half-year. 

One evening, as she was re turning on foot, walking 
very rapidly, so as to get back as soon as possible 
to Mark, her heart sank, and she felt faint in spirit 
as she thought of her future and its prospects. To 
go on teach, teach, teach, and try to make stupid 


138 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


girls achieve something approaching skill in hand- 
ling their brushes, so that parents might be satisfied. 
Eor, poor girl, she found what most teachers do, 
that when a child does not progress, it is always the 
instructor’s fault, not that of the disciple. 

“ I shall be better when I’ve had some tea,” she 
said to herself, as the tears gathered in her eyes. 
“Why do I murmur so ? Eich never complains, and 
her troubles are as great as mine. I ought to be glad 
and rejoice that poor Mark has come back safely, 
and — there he is again.” 

Janet’s little heart beat wildly with fear as a tall 
muffled-up figure appeared from a doorway in the 
sombre-looking square into which she had turned 
from the street where she gave lessons three after- 
noons a week, and followed her at a short distance 
behind. 

For two months past, evening after evening, that 
figure had been there, making her heart palpitate as 
she thought of what a weak, helpless little creature 
she was, and how unprotected in this busy world. 

It was hard work to keep steadily on without look- 
ing round, without starting off at a run. Her breast 
seemed filled with that wild scream which she 
longed to utter, but dared not, telling herself that 
to seem afraid or to notice the figure was to invite 
assault. 

“ Oh, if Mark would only get well,” she thought, 
“ or if Eich could come and meet me ! ” 

Then she called herself a coward, and stepped 
daintily on along the muddy street, wondering 
whether it would be possible to go by some other 
way, and so avoid this shadow which dogged her 
steps. 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


139 


There was one way to get over it — to mention it 
to Bich, and ask her to bid Hendon wait for her and 
see her home. But that, she said, she would sooner 
die than do ; so she had tried four different ways of 
reaching home, and always with the figure following 
her to the door of the house where she lodged, and 
where Mark sat waiting for her to come. 

It was always the same : the muffled-up figure 
followed her closely, and kept on the same side of 
the way till she reached her door, when it crossed 
over, and waited till she went in, breathless and 
trembling. 

Over and over again the little frightened girl tried 
to devise some plan, but all in vain ; till this night of 
the foggy winter she was crossing the street, re- 
joicing that she was so near home, when there was 
a shout, a horse’s hot breath was upon her cheek, 
and she was sent staggering sideways, and would 
have fallen had not the muffled-up figure been at 
hand, caught her in his arms, and borne her to the 
pavement, while the cab disappeared in the yellow 
mist. 

‘‘ My own darling ! Are you hurt ?” he cried pas- 
sionately. 

“Hendon! You!” she panted. 

“Yes, I,” he said. “You are hurt!” 

“ No, no,” she cried; “only frightened. The horse 
struck my shoulder. But — but was it you who fol- 
lowed me every night all the way home ?” 

“Yes,” he said, coldly now, “you knew it was.’' 

“ Idid not,” she retorted angrily; and then in half- 
hysterical tones, “ how dare you go on frightening 
me night after night like this ? It has been horrible. 
You have made me ill.” 


140 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


“ Made you ill?” lie said. “ How could I let you 
go about all alone these dark evenings ? I was for- 
bidden to talk to you as I wished, but there was no 
reason why I should not watch over you. How’s 
Mark?” 

‘‘ Getting better,” said Janet, drawing a breath of 
relief at her companion ’s sudden change in the con- 
versation ; for she felt that had he continued in that 
same sad reproachful strain she must have hung 
upon his arm, and sobbed and thanked him for his 
chivalrous conduct. There was something, too, so 
sweet in the feeling that he must love her very 
dearly in spite of all the rebuffs he had received ; 
and somehow as they walked on, a gle^m of sunny 
yellow came through the misty grays and dingy 
drabs with which from her mental color-box she had 
been tinging her future life. There was even a dash 
of ultramarine, too — a brighter blue than her eyes 
— and her heart began to beat quite another tune. 

“ May I come and walk home with you every 
night?” said Hendon at last, as, after repeated as- 
surances that she was not hurt, they stopped at last 
at the street door. 

“ No,” she said decidedly ; and her little lips were 
tightly compressed, so that they should not give vent 
to a sob. 

“How cruel you are, Janet !” 

“ For trying to do what is right,” she said firmly. 
“ "What would your sister say if, after all that has 
passed, I were to be so weak ? ” 

“ May I follow you at a distance, as I have done 
all this time ? ” he pleaded. 

“No. .You have only frightened me almost to 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


141 


deatli,” slie replied. “ Will yon come np and see 
poor Mark ? ” 

‘‘Not to-night,” he said bitterly ; “ I couldn’t bear 
it now. Janet, if I go to thei bad, it won’t be all my 
fault. I know I’m a weak fellow, but with some- 
thing to act as ballast, I should be all right. What 
have I done that you should be so cold? ” 

For answer, Janet held out her hand. 

“ Good-night, Mr. Chartley,” she said quietly; but 
he did not take the hand, only turned away, walk- 
ing rapidly along the street , while, fighting hard 
to keep from bursting into a violent fit of sobbing, 
Janet hurried up to her room, to find her brother 
looking haggard and wild as he slowly paced the 
floor. 


CHAPTEK XIV. 

MARK HEATH IN THE DARK. 

“Xo — NO — no !” Always the same determined 
‘ answer to the declarations of Janet that some steps 
should be taken to investigate the affairs of the 
night on which her brother had first reached London. 

“No,” he said; “I will have nothing done. Let 
me get well, and away from here. “ I’ve escaped 
with my life.” 

“ And what will you do, Mark ?” asked Janet, as 
she sat by his side. ^ 

“ Try again,” he said. “But I must first get well.” 

He had heard that the doctor was ill, but every- 
thing else had been kept from him, till one evening, 
as he was seated by the fire at Janet’s neat little lodg- 
ings, and his sister was called dovm to see a visitor. 


142 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


She had a suspicion of who it was, and found 
Eichmond waiting. 

'‘Come up and see him.” 

Eichmond hesitated. 

“ I must not stay long,” she said. “ My father 
frets for me if I am away.” 

“ And I am situated almost the same. Mark does 
not like to be left. Come up, dear, and help me to 
persuade him that he ought to employ the police.” 

“ No, no ! don’t talk of them,” said Eichmond, 
with a shudder. “ I want the horror at our house 
forgotten, and they keep reminding me that the law 
does not sleep.” 

“ Why, Eich, how strangely you talk ! ” 

“ Strangely, dear ! No. Only it comes back like 
a nightmare ever since that terrible affair, so soon 
as it is mentioned. I seem to be wandering about 
the house in misery, fever, and pain, trying to see 
through a mist that I cannot penetrate. I don’t 
know how it is or what it means, but I have this 
horrible thought troubling me, that I came down 
that night to go to the surgery, and that I saw some- 
thing.” 

“ Saw something ! Saw what ? ” 

“Ah ! that is what I cannot tell,” said Eich with 
a shudder. “ I was better this morning, and more 
hopeful. My poor father seemed a little clearer in 
his mind, but the past is all a blank to him.” 

He knew me, dear, when I came yesterday.” 

“ Oh, yes ! and he knows me well enough. He 
talks sensibly about what is going on around him ; 
but that night when he was struck down, the blows 
seemed to break away the connection between the 
present and the past. The physician, who has seen 


THE BAa OF DIAMONDS. 143 

liim, says very little, but I can see that lie considers 
the case hopeless.” 

“Oh, don’t say that, dear! We must all hope. I 
hope to be something better some day than a poor 
teacher. Come up now, and help me to persuade 
Mark to have in the police.” 

“ No, no I” cried Bich hastily. 

“Why not, dear?” Think what it means if it is 
true about the diamonds, and we could get them 
back.” 

“But it cannot be true, Janet ; and as to the po- 
lice, they make me shudder. They were at our house 
this morning to see Hendon, and with him my father, 
to try whether they could revive his memory, and 
get hold of a clue to those men who came to our 
house that night, and they have found out nothing. 
They say they are straining every nerve now to find 
that poor boy. They think he must hold the clue.” 

“ I think I could find it all out if I tried,” said 
Janet. “ Had your father any enemies?” 

Bichmond shook her head. 

“ Any one to whom he owed money ? ” 

Bichmond started, and her thoughts reverted to 
Poynter. 

“No, no, no — impossible! Let it rest, dear. I 
have thought over it, till it nearly drives me mad ! ” 
she cried excitedly. 

“ It is very strange,” continued Janet musingly. 
“ I don’t like to let it rest, and there is our trouble, 
too. Bich dear, has it ever occurred to you that it 
must have been the same night when poor Mark was 
found wandering about ? ” 

“ No!” 


144 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


“ Yes, dear. I have calculated it out from what 
the hospital sister told me. It was the same night.” 

B/ich looked at her wonderingly. 

“It was, dear,” continued Janet. “While you 
had that horror at home, I was sleeping here com- 
fortably, and poor Mark was wandering about the 
cruel streets half wild.” 

Rich made a gesture to her friend to be silent, and 
Janet passed her arm about her waist, to lead her 
upstairs, but with the full determination to try and 
make some investigation. For though there -were 
times when the thought of her brother having 
brought home a bag of diamonds seemed mythical, 
and the birth of his diseased imagination — especially 
as he never named them now — at other times visions 
of comparative wealth had come to her, in the midst 
of which she seemed to see herself with Hendon, 
and her old companion and her brother happily 
looking on. 

Mark was seated gazing moodily at the fire as 
Bichmond entered with his sister, and he rose to 
take her hands, and lead her to a chair. 

But somehow both seemed constrained and 
troubled by thoughts which they kept from each 
other. 

“ I know,” said Janet to herself, “it’s that dread- 
ful money which is keeping them apart, and if I 
don’t do something, Mark will be going off again to 
seek his fortune, and it is like condemning poor Eich 
and himself to a life of misery and waiting.” 

She sat working, but furtively watching the others 
all the while. 

“ This poverty is killing us all,” she said to her- 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 145 

self at last. “ and I will speak. It may be true, and 
he shall do something to find out.” 

“ Mark dear,” she said aloud, “ I have something 
to say.” 

“ Indeed ! Well, what is it ?” 

“I’ve come to the conclusion that, now you are 
better, you ought to speak out like a man, and — ” 

“ Stop !” he said hoarsely. 

“ No, Mark, I shall not stop,” cried Janet decided- 
ly. “ You say that you went to a friend’s house that 
night with all your money and — and treasure.” 

“ Girl ! will you be silent ?” he cried savagely. 

“No,” said Janet, laughing. “I want you to see 
this matter as I do. Whoever this man is, he ought 
to be forced to give up what he must have stolen 
from you. If you will not stir, I shall.” 

“ You will ? ” 

“ Yes ; I shall take counsel with Hendon again.” 

“ Again?” almost yelled Mark. 

“ Yes, sir, again. We have spoken over the mat- 
ter together, and he agrees that the police ought to 
be seen, and that you must make this friend give up 
what he has taken.” 

“ You’ll drive me mad, Janet. Hendon thinks 
this?” 

“Yes ; and we are going to do it at once, for the 
sake of you and Eich. 

“ You shall not stir !” cried Mark fiercely. 

“Why not?” interposed Eich, taking his hand. 
“ I think with my brother and Janet now, much as 
I dislike these investigations.” 

“You think so — you?” cried Mark wildly. 

“ Yes. Why not ?” said Eich. “ Mark dear, why 


146 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


should you flincli from speaking out ?” You can 
have no unworthy motive.” 

“Unworthy motive ? No,” he said bitterly. “I 
give up everything to spare another.” 

“Then you shall not,” said Janet firmly. “Your 
duty is to Eichmond here; your promised wife.” 

“ Yes,” said Mark moodily; “my duty is to Eich 
here, my promised wife.” 

“ And yet for the sake of some unworthy wretch, 
you make her suffer — ^yes, sir, and me too. Why, 
Eich, dear Eich, what is the matter ?” 

She flew to her friend’s side, and caught her hands; 
for Eich had started from her chair, looking wildly 
from one to the other, as, struggling as it were from 
out of a confused mist, how revived she could not 
tell, there came back to her, memory by memory, 
the scenes of that terrible night. Yes : she remem- 
bered now, though it still seemed like a dream — a 
fragmentary, misty dream. 

Yes, that was the clue ! Janet had said it was 
upon that same night that Mark had returned — had 
been found senseless in the streets. 

“ Don’t, don’t speak to me for a minute ! ” she 
cried, as she fought hard to recall everything — the 
maddening pain that night, the visit to the surgery, 
the chloral she had obtained and taken, and then 
that strange wild sleep. 

Yes ; she recalled it now. She dreamed she had 
come down to fetch something else from the surgery 
to allay the agony she suffered, and that the door 
was locked, and that she had heard voices — her 
father’s voice, Mark’s voice — yes, it was Mark’s 
voice ; and she had stood there trembling till it 
died away, and that formed part of her dream. 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


147 


But now the voice was here in this room, and he 
caught her hand with a wildly suspicious look in his 
eye. 

“What are you thinking?” he said. 

She turned upon him sharply. 

“The name of your friend with whom you took 
refuge that night?” she said; and her eyes flashed as 
she gazed searchingly in his. 

He dropped her hand, and turned away, with his 
lips compressed and face contracted. 

“ Mark,” she cried, “ why do you not speak ? Where 
did you go that night when you returned ?” 

He looked at her for a moment, and then turned 
away again. “ I do not know,” he said hoarsely. 

“ It is not true,” cried Rich. “ You must speak 
now. It was to our house you came.” 

“ What !” 

“ I remember now. I heard your voice. You 
were with my father — in the surgery.” 

“Rich,” he said, almost savagely, as he caught her 
wrist, “ think of what yqu are saying !” 

“ Rich dear, don’t say that !” cried Janet pite- 
ously. 

“ I know what I am saying,” she said excitedly ; 
and though her face was calm, it was evident that 
she was suffering terribly. 

“No, no,” he cried; “no, dear, you are wrong.” 

“No, Mark, I am right: you told us you took ref- 
uge with a friend — that friend was my father.” 

“ What ! Rich, do you know what you are saying 
— do you know what this means if the police should 
hear 

“Yes,” she cried; the clearing up of a terrible 


148 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


mystery ; perhaps the restoration of all that you 
have lost.” 

“J anet, is she mad ?” cried Mark. “ Do you not 
see what all this means ?” 

Janet shook her head with a helpless look on her 
face. 

“ Then I will tell you,” he thundered : “ it means 
ruin — misery to us all. Girl, for pity’s sake, be si- 
lent ! Kich, dear Bich, I love you with a man’s first 
strong love. Have I not slaved for you all these 
years, to win you for my own true wife ? Don’t — 
don’t raise this up between us. What is poverty Jo 
such a shadow as this ?” 

“ I do not understand you,” she cried ; “ but it is 
true. You did come to my father’s house that 
night.” 

He gazed at her in blank despair. 

“ W hy do you look at me like that ? Do you not 
see the light ?” 

“ The light !” he cried, with a bitter laugh. “ I see 
you — the woman I love — trying to force me into a 
position which I would sooner die than hold. Hush, 
for mercy’s sake ! No, no, no !” he muttered; and 
then aloud, “ Call it a lie, or a desperate man’s last 
cry for help. I did not come to your father’s house 
that night.” 

Bich gazed at him in blank astonishment for the 
moment, and then she flung her arms about his neck, 
and with her eyes close to his, she cried. 

“ What are you thinking — that it was my father 
who drugged and robbed you, or my brother ? Oh, 
Mark ?” 

She seemed to throw him off as she stepped back. 


THE BAH OF DIAMONDS. 


149 


her pale face flushing, and a look of indignant anger 
in her eyes. 

“What does this mean?” cried Janet; but her 
words fell unheeded. 

“ Shame on you ! You are silent. How could 
you think this thing?” 

“Heavenhelp me !” groanedMark. “And I fought 
so hard !” 

By a sudden revulsion of feeling, Kich turned to 
him again, and with her sweet rich voice, full of the 
agony of her heart, she caught his hands. 

“ How could you think it of him, Mark ! My poor 
gentle-hearted father! Do you not see? Did you 
not tell us that you were hunted from place to place 
by those men ?” 

“ Rich, my darling,” groaned Mark, as he strained 
her to his breast, “ do you not see that you are dig- 
ging a gulf between us, and that you will soon be 
standing on the other side, shrinking from me in ab- 
horrence as the man who has brought this charge 
against your father ? And God knows how I have 
striven to bear all in silence I” 

“ But, Mark—” 

“Rich, it is your doing, not mine!” he cried wildly. 
“ What are the diamonds to the loss of you ?” 

“ But, Mark,” she cried impetuously, “ this is mad- 
ness. You suspect him. You shall speak now — you 
shall. You have thought my father did this thing?” 

“ You drag it from me,” he groaned. “ I do.” 

“ Oh, shame !” cried Richmond, shrinking from 
him; “to suspect the poor old man, who nearly died 
in your defence.” 

“What ! ” cried Mark. 

“Whom we found struck down bleeding, and whom 


150 


THE BA.G OP DIAMONDS. 


I am neglecting now, when he is hovering almost 
between life and death — neglecting that I might 
come to him whom I thought the soul of chivalry 
and faith.” 

“ Stop 1” cried Mark, in a harsh voice, as he re- 
leased Rich, who struggled from him, and stood 
with his hands pressed to his eyes. “ Janet, I have 
been off my head. I seem to think wildly now and 
then. Do I hear her aright, or am I still confused ? 
What does she say ?” 

“ I — I don’t quite know myself,” faltered Janet, 
bursting into tears. 

“ And yet I seem to understand,” cried Mark ex- 
citedly. “Rich dearest, speak to me again. Your 
father found — struck down — in my defence ?” 

“ Yes, that is what I said,” replied Rich coldly. 

“ Struck down in my defence. I did not know of 
this.” 

“ You — you knew he was very ill,” sobbed Janet. 

“ Yes ; but I knew no more.” 

“ How could we tell you when you were nearly 
dead ?” sobbed Janet ; “and the doctor said you 
were not to be troubled in any way.” 

Mark Heath stood as if dazed for a few minutes, 
striving to think coherently, and master the delusion 
under which he had been suffering. 

“ Rich,” he cried at last, “ for God’s sake, tell me 
all!” 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS, 


151 


CHAPTER XY. 

A PHYSICIAN UNHEALED. 

James Poynter sat polisliing his hat with his 
handkerchief, and staring at Hendon with a con- 
traction, half smile, half grin, upon his face. 

“ I tell you I can’t pay you. You forced the money 
upon me.” 

“I forced it on you ! Come, that’s a good one ! 
Now, are you going to pay ?” 

“You know I can’t, Poynter. You must wait.” 

“Not likely. “Well, I must have my money, and 
what your father owes me too.” 

“ I have only your word that he does owe you 
money, James Poynter.” 

“ All right, Mr. Hendon; go on. Insult me. The 
more patient I am the more advantage you take. Ask 
him if he don’t.” 

“Ask him?” said the young man bitterly; “you 
know his mind is as good as gone.” 

“ Is it as bad as that ?” said Poynter, with as- 
sumed pity, but his eyes twinkling with eagerness, 
as he wound the handkerchief round and round. 

“ Bad ? yes. Millington, our best man; saw him 
yesterday, and he says nothing but an operation and 
raising the bone pressing on the brain will relieve 
him; and at his age he would not be responsible for 
the result.” 

Poynter drew a breath full of satisfaction, and 
smiled at his polished hat. 


152 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


“ Well, I think the operation ought to be per- 
formed, so as to bring him to his senses again. Poor 
old boy ! He does seem queer. I asked him — ” 

“ What, you spoke to that poor old man about 
your cursed debt ! ” cried Hendon furiously. 

“ Of course I did. Cursed debt, indeed ! Why, 
I’ve behaved as well as a man could behave. Look- 
ye here, do you want me to sell you up ? ” 

Hendon uttered an ejaculation, and, writhing under 
his impotence, he began pacing the old dining-room, 
while with a show of proprietorship James Poynter 
set down his hat, put his handkerchief therein, took 
out his case, and selected a cigar. 

Have a weed ? ” he said, nipping the end of the 
one he was about to smoke. 

D — n you, and your cigars too ! ” cried the young 
man furiously. 

“ Thank ye, cub ! ” said Poynter, lighting up. 
“ There, you won’t make me waxy. I’m a true friend 
in disguise. Ah, this is one of a noo lot I bought. 
Have one, old man.” 

Hendon made a fierce gesticulation, and scowled 
in the grinning face. 

“How long are you going to stop here?” he 
said. 

“Long as I like. P’raps I shall have the house 
done up, and come and live here.” 

“What? 

“ Ah ! what indeed ! Suppose I bought the lease 
of the governor ? What have you got to say to that ?” 

Hendon glared at him wildly. 

“How’s the little angel — Janet ?” 

Hendon’s hands clenched, and he ground his 
teeth, while Poynter laughed at him. 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 153 

“ So the big brother’s out of the hospital ; got 
over his D. T., and lodging with his sister, eh ?” 

Hendon made no reply. 

“ Come, old chap,” continued Poynter, “have a 
cigar, and do try and be sensible. I don’t want 
to do nothing hard, but of course a man must fight 
for his own hand. I haven’t come here to sell you 
up, but to bring you to your senses, like the friend 
I always was. Now look here, Hendon, this bro- 
ther seems to be as loose a fish as a girl could have 
for a relation ; but Miss Heath’s as smart a little lass 
as ever stepped — ” 

“ Have the goodness to leave Miss Heath’s name 
alone, sir.” 

“Waxy again. Now look here, Hendon, I’m a 
rich man. Suppose I say to you, my lad, look out 
for a snug little practice; I’ll lend you the money — 
can’t afford to give it — buy the practice, and marry 
Janet. Isn’t that being a friend ?” 

Hendon went on pacing the room. 

“ Sulky, eh ? All right: answer me this, then. 
Shouldn’t I make your sister a better husband than 
this Mark Heath ? Come, be sensible; take me up- 
stairs to see her. Now, at once. Let me make things 
pleasant for all of you. What’s the good of being 
enemies, when we might be friends ?” 

“ Friends !” 

“ Better than being master and slave, eh, Hendon, 
my lad ? Borrower slave to the lender, eh ?” 

“ Ah !” ejaculated Hendon. 

“ Come, come, you’re sensible now. Take me up- 
stairs, and let’s. have it out with Eich.” 

“ With Eich ! ” cried Hendon passionately. 

“ There, don’t you be so cocky, young man. I 


154 


THE BAH OF DIAMONDS. 


don’t call your Janet, Jenny. Yes, with Eicli ; my 
own dear darling Bicli. There ! How do you like 
that? Now then, let’s get it over.” 

“My sister is not at home.” 

“ Then we’ll go up and see the old man ; and let’s 
hear what he’ll say to it all. He won’t deny that 
he’s in my debt.” 

“Poor old fellow, no,” groaned Hendon to him- 
self. 

“ I say,” said Poynter, turning grave, “ where’s 
Rich? She hasn’t gone to see that sailor chap?” 

“ I don’t know whom you mean by ‘ sailor chap,’ ” 
said Hendon bitterly. 

“ Then I’ll tell you,” he said. “ I mean Mark 
Heath, and I’ve got a theory of my own about him.” 

“ Curse you and your theories ! ” cried Hendon 
fiercely. 

“ Yes, and bless me and my money,” said Poynter, 
laughingly. 

“ Stop ! Where are you going ? ” 

“This is my house, or as good as mine,” said 
Poynter ; “ and I’m going up to see my poor old 
father-in-law to be. I don’t think he’s properly 
seen to, and I mean to have him off down to the 
seaside, to try and pull him round. Coming ? ” 

Hendon was so much staggered by his visitor’s 
cool insolence that Poynter was at the foot of the 
staircase before he thought to follow ; and then, 
feeling that this man had a hold upon him that he 
dared not shake off, he followed him upstairs, and 
into the sparely-furnished front drawing-room into 
which the doctor had been lying all through his 
illness. 

He was seated where he could see the window, 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


155 


and his handsome face looked vacant and strange as 
he turned his head to Elizabeth, who was waiting 
on him in her mistress’s absence. 

“ Is that Bich ?” he said feebly. 

“ No, doctor, it’s me, come for a bit of advice,” 
cried Poynter. “ Here,” he said, turning to the 
maid, as he whisked his handkerchief round his hat, 
“you be off.” 

Elizabeth left the room, wiping her eyes, and 
Poynter sat down beside the doctor, and shook 
hands. 

“Why,” I ought to feel your pulse now, and not 
you mine,” he said boisterously. 

“ Glad to see you, Mr. Poynter. Pretty well, thank 
you. Is my Rich coming ?” 

“ To be sure she is, old boy. Now, I just want a 
cosy chat with you about Eich.” 

“About Eich? Yes, yes.” 

“ You remember how I proposed for her ?” 

The doctor looked at him blankly, and shook his 
head. “ Is Eich coming, Hendon ? he said. 

“ Yes, father; she is here,” he cried; for there was 
the sound of wheels, and running to the window, he 
smiled grimly as he saw who descended from the cab. 

“Might have stopped a little longer,” grumbled 
Poynter to himself. “ It don’t matter; the game’s 
mine now. I) — n !” 

He started from his seat as he saw Eich enter the 
room, closely followed by Mark Heath and Janet, 
to whom Hendon hurried with outstretched hands, 
and after a little hesitation, two little dark well- 
mended gloves and their contents were placed in 
his strong grasp. 


156 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


“ Dearest father,” said Bich softly, as she hurried 
to the old man’s side. 

‘‘Ah,” he said, taking her hands, and fondling 
them, while a brighter smile came into his pleasant 
vacant face; “ that’s better — that’s better. Here’s 
Mr.— Mr.— Mr.— ” 

“ Poynter, doctor,” said that individual, glad of an 
opportunity to remove his eyes from Mark’s, which 
were gazing at him rather inimically. 

“Yes, yes, Mr. Poynter come to see us, Bich.” 

“And I have come to see you too, doctor,” said 
Mark. “You remember me ? ” 

The doctor looked up at him keenly, and then 
shook his head, and, with a troubled look in his 
eyes. 

“No,” he said. “No — no — no.” 

‘* Hah ! ” ejaculated Poynter, with a smile of satis- 
faction. 

“Mark Heath, father dear,” said Bich gently. 
“ Don’t you remember Mr. Heath, who went to the 
Cape?” 

“ Heath ? ” said the doctor ; “ Heath — Heath ? No 
— no,” he added thoughtfully. “ Glad to see Mr. 
Heath. Friend of Hendon’s? ” His words were 
calm, but he seemed to wince. 

“ No, doctor : I’m Hendon’s friend,” said Poynter, 
with a laugh ; and he gave his hat a loving wipe. 

“ Yes, Mr. Poynter. You came to see me the day 
before yesterday. I remember — remember. I pre- 
scribed — ” 

“ That’s right, sir; that’s right,” cried Poynter, 
with one of his horse laughs. 

“Is this man going, Hendon?” whispered Mark 
impatiently. 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


157 


“ No, Mr. Mark Heatli, he ain’t,” said Poynter 
^ fiercely. “ Speak lower if you don’t want people to 
hear; we’ve got sharp ears in the City, and I’m not 
going.” 

“No, no; Mr. Poynter has come to see me,” said 
the doctor, gazing in a frightened way at Mark. 
“ Don’t go, Mr. Poynter. It’s very dull here.” 

“ I’m not going, doctor. It’s all right,” said the 
unwelcome visitor. “You’re going to set me right.” 

“ You’ll excuse me — Mr. Poynter, I think,” said 
Mark; “ but I have some private business to transact 
with Dr. Chartley.” 

“ Yes, I’ll excuse you as much as you like. I’ve 
got private business with Doctor Chartley, too.” 

“Why, Mark,” cried Hendon, “have you found 
out anything about your loss ?” 

“ Yes. No. Well, yes; I have learned something,” 
cried Mark excitedly, and he glanced again angrily 
at Poynter. 

But the latter’s unwelcome presence seemed to 
be ignored by all, in the intense excitement of the 
moment. For Rich threw herself upon her knees at 
her father’s feet, and took his hands. 

“Father dear,” she said gently, “I want you to 
try and remember something.” 

“ Yes, my dear, yes — certainly, certainly,” said the 
old man, bending down to kiss her tenderly. 

“ That night, you know, when — when you were 
taken ill.” 

“ Yes, my love , that night I was taken ill ? Was 
I taken ill?” 

“ Yes, dear ; but you are nearly well now. Do 
you remember Mr. Heath coming ? Try and remem- 
ber, dear.” 


158 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


Poynter’s face grew convulsed and angry, and he 
seemed to be looking about for some moral weapon 4 
with which to attack his enemy, but contented him- 
self with a whisk of his handkerchief around his 
hat. 

“ Heath, dear ? This is Mr. Heath, you say — 
Heath?” and the doctor’s face grew troubled. 

“ Yes, yes. Do you remember his coming to see 
you?” 

The doctor looked from one to the other, and 
shook his head. 

“ Oh, father, dear father, for my sake try !” cried 
Eich. “ Do you not remember his coming to you?” 

The doctor put his hand to his head, and looked 
wildly round. 

“ No,” he said at last. “ No, I don’t think I have 
seen Mr. Heath before; “ but the wild look was still 
in his eyes. 

“Don’t say that, doctor,” said Mark, taking his 
hand. “You have forgotten. Don’t you remember? 
That dreadful foggy night. I came to you, and you 
let me into the surgery ?” 

“Yes, dear, you recollect,” cried Eich piteously. 

“ I was utterly exhausted, and worn out — very 
much excited,” continued Mark. “ You took me into 
the consulting-room, and I lay down upon the sofa. 
You gave me brandy, and some narcotic.” 

“ Brandy and a narcotic,” said the doctor, smiling; 

“ rather a strange mixture. Did I ? ” 

“Yes ; you recollect now ? ” said Mark eagerly. 

The doctor looked at him intently, and then at 
Eich ; but ended by shaking his head slowly. 

“No,” he said, “I do not recollect.” 

“ All this is maddening ! ” muttered Mark ; “ just 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


159 


when one’s hopes were reviving, and there was a 
chance of discovering something. Doctor,” he con- 
tinued excitedly, “try and recollect.” 

“ Yes, dear, for Mark Heath’s sake, try,” continued 
Bicli ; and Poynter ground his teeth, as he felt what 
he would give to evoke the same interest for him- 
self. 

“ I will try, my love,” said the doctor blandly. 
“ Of course.” 

“ Then you remember I told you I had just come 
from the Cape : that I had a bag of diamonds in my 
breast?” 

Poynter uttered a sneering laugh, which made 
Heath wince, and turn upon him wrathfully. 

“ Diamonds? did you say a bag of diamonds? ” 
said the doctor. 

“Yes, yes; you remember.” 

“Was it not a very unsafe place to carry dia- 
monds ?” 

“ Yes, of course it was ; but I could trust no one 
but myself. You remember then, doctor ?” 

Dr. Chartley paused for a few moments, and 
shook his head again. 

“No,” he said blandly, “I do not remember. 
Diamonds, you say ?” 

“ Yes, yes, diamonds i” 

“ r hope they were not lost,” said the doctor 
simply. 

“Yes; lost, lost!” cried Mark frantically, “The 
night you were struck down !” 

“ Here, hold hard !” cried Poynter sharply. “ Look 
here, Mr. Mark Heath, you came here that night?” 

“Why do you interfere, sir?” 

“Never mind. P’r’aps I know something.” 


160 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


'•‘You know something ?” 

“P’r’aps so. You say you came here — late?” 

“Yes, very late.” 

“ That night the doctor was struck down ?” 

“ Yes ; but why do you ask ?” 

“Because, you scoundrel, we’ve got the clue at 
last. You were the man !” 

So sudden was the charge that Mark literally stag- 
gered back, and, weak from his illness, he gasped, 
and looked to a superficial observer as much like a 
guilty man as ever recoiled from a sudden denuncia- 
tion. But as a wave of the advancing tide merely 
retires to gain fresh force, Mark Heath recovered 
himself. 

“ You scoundrel !” he cried; and he would have 
sprung at Poynter’s throat, but for the restraining 
arm of Janet and Hendon. 

“ Scoundrel yourself !” cried Poynter savagely. 
“ Look at his face ! Here — the police !” 

He strode towards the door, upon which at that 
moment there was a loud tapping; and before he 
could reach it, Bob stood in the opening, very rough 
of head, very ragged, and looking as if he had not 
been washed since he was missed. 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


1(>1 


CHAPTEB XVL 

BOB IS EXPLANATORY. 

“ Here, boy,” cried Poynter, “ quick ! Fetch a 
policeman. Half-a-crown.” 

He thrust his hand into his pocket, but at that mo- 
ment even that outrageously large sum had not the 
slightest effect upon the boy, who looked quickly 
round from one to the other till his eyes lit upon 
Mark, at whom he rushed with the action of a well- 
trained dog, seizing him by the arm and breast of 
his coat, and clinging tightly. 

“Pve got him,” he said shrilly. “Fetch the per- 
lice. Fve got him. Miss Kich; I see him come that 
night.” 

Poynter raised his fist, and struck it into his open 
hand. 

“ I knew it !” he cried. “ I knew I was right ! Now, 
Mr. Mark Heath, what have you got to say?” 

“ Hendon, lad, lay hold of this boy. He’s mad.” 

“ No, I ain’t,” cried Bob. “ Had ’nuffto make me, 
though.” 

“ Let go, you dog ! ” roared Mark. 

“ All right, I’m a-going to,” said the boy, shrink- 
ing away as Rich came to him. 

“ Bob,” she cried, “ what is this you’re saying ? ” 

“ Well, I d’ know. Miss,” he said, scratching his 
head ; “ and I don’t think now it weer him. But I’ll 
sweer he come and told the doctor as the perlice or 
some one was arter him.” 


THE BA(i OF DIAMONDS. 


I (>2 

“ Yes, boy, yes ; I did come, but you were not 
there.” 

“Worn’t I? Yes, I was,” said the boy, grinning. 
“I see you come, and you’d got one o’ them 
long-tail ulcers and a broad-brimmed hat ; and 
the doctor — I say. Miss, is he better ? ” . 

“Yes, yes. Bob ; but pray go on.” 

“ I am glad the gov’ner’s better. It scared me. I 
thought he was a dead ’un.” 

The boy looked round, and gave everybody a 
confidential nod, including “ ’Lisbeth,” who was 
standing at the door, crying, and smiling with satis- 
faction by turns. 

“But you say you saw me come !” cried Mark, 
while Poynter stood looking on in triumph. 

“ See you come ? Course I did. I know’d you 
d’reckly, but I don’t think it was you as^ did it.” 

“ No, boy, it was not I. But where were you ?” 

“ Wheer was I ? Ah ! you wouldn’t know. I was 
afraid o’ the doctor dropping on to me for being 
there, and I skipped into the bone box.” 

“What!” cried Hendon. 

“ I did, sir, ’strue as goodness. There’s lot’s o* 
room, and I could just lift up the lid and peep, and 
that’s how I see him come,” 

“You young rascal ?” muttered Hendon; while the 
doctor sat quietly smiling, as if it were something 
got up for his special amusement. 

“Then the doctor he took jou into his room, and 
you had some bran’ -water hot. I smelt it. And 
then he come and got down one o’ tlie bottles, and 
misked you up a dollop o’ physic; and I beared you 
both a-buzzing away, and talking about wheer you’d 


THE BAG OE DIAMONDS. 


1()3 


been. The doctor kep’ coaxing of yon, like, to go to 
sleep, and somehow that sent me off.” 

“ What ! in that box with those — ” 

“ Oh, yes, I don’t mind them. I often nips in 
there when any one’s coming.” 

“Did you hear anything else. Bob ?” said Eich ex- 
citedly, as she held the boy’s hand. 

“ Not till some one else come, and knocked two 
or three times ; and I was going to answer the door, 
when the doctor come and turned down the gas, and 
then I lay still, and heard him putting the physic 
bottles away afore he’d let ’em in ; didn’t you, sir?” 

The doctor smiled, and shook his head. 

“ Why, I beared you!” said the boy reproach- 
fully ; “ and then you turns up the gas again, and I 
lifts the lid a bit, and sees it was two men and an 
accident.” 

“An accident?” 

“ Yes, Miss, a chap as they said had been run over ; 
and they brings him in, and puts him on. the cushin 
a top o’ the box I was in ; and I lay still and listens, 
for I says as it was a good chance to hear a opera- 
tion, if I couldn’t see one.” 

“ Go on, boy ; go on.” 

“ All right, sir. Well, as I listens — oh, it was 
good 1 The chap groans and hollers about his chest, 
and then he makes no end of fuss, and the doctor 
says he’ll soon be all right ; and then — ivhoosh ! — croosh/ 
I hears as if some one had been hit, and a big fall 
— quelch ! Then I lay very still, for I was scared. I 
heard some one get off the box, and a lot o’ whisper- 
ing, and I dursn’t move, for fear they should know 
I was there. But when I did peep, and lifted the 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


1()4 

lid softly, there was tJie doctor lying close to the 
box, on his face, and I thought he was dead. 

“ That give me a turn. Miss,” continued the boy, 
after moistening his lips, for his voice had become 
husky, “ and I don’t think I knowed what happened 
till I heerd a skeary kind o’ noise, and a loud sort o’ 
whop in the ’suiting-room ; and then the door was 
opened, and I see the light shining on you a-lying 
on the sofa — you, sir — sleep or shamming, and a 
man in there too, a-lying down, and — and — I7-I can’t 
help it, Miss — I ain’t had much to eat lately, and I 
—I—” 

Poor Bob let himself sink in a heap upon the floor, 
covered his face with his hands, and burst into a fit 
of sobbing. 

There was another fit of sobbing heard, for grimy- 
faced Elizabeth rushed forward, plumped down be- 
side the boy, and took his head to her breast, to 
rock him to and fro. 

“ Poor boy !” said Bich softly, and she took his 
hand. 

The touch was like magic; for Bob lifted up his 
dirty tearful face, all smiles. 

“ It’s all right. Miss; I’m on’y a bit upset. Only 
let me get into the surgery again, and I knows what 
to take to put me right.” 

“ Can you tell us any more, my lad ?” said Mark 
kindly. 

“ Course I can, sir ; not much, though, for I dun- 
no what come over me. I see them two a-lying 
about, and as something horrid was the matter, and 
I come over all wet and sick ; and then I don’t re- 
member any more till I seemed to wake up with a 
headache, and couldn’t maka out what it all meant ; 


THE BAG OP DIAMONDS. 


165 


and Avlien I could I lifted up the box-lid, and put 
out my hand, and felt to try if it was fancy. But 
there was the doctor lying on his face ; and though 
all was very quiet, I knowed the other dead ’un 
must be in the ’suiting-room, and I lay there ’fraid 
to move, and all of a pruspiration.” 

“Did you hear anything else?” said Kich eagerly. 

“Yes, Miss ; I beared the window broke, and you 
come, and the perliceman, and I beared all you said; 
but I dursn’t move, for fear the perlicemen should 
think I did it — the perlice is such wunners, you 
know; and last of all, I hears the perliceman begin 
hunting about, and I got scared again, and tried to 
hide ; and jus’ as I picks up that there white skull, 
and was trying whether I couldn’t get lower, he opens 
^ the lid, and bangs it down.” 

“Should you know the men again? ” asked Mark 
eagerly. 

“ Dunno, sir. You see it was all foggy like, and 
they was wropped up ; but I should know ’em if I 
heerd ’em speak.” 

Mark uttered an ej aculation full of disappointment, 
and signed to the boy to go on. 

“ Well, sir, that’s all; only I waited till no one was 
there; and then I lifted the lid and crep out of the 
box; and it was very horrid, for there was the dead 
chap in the nex’ room, and I kep’ thinking he’d come 
after me, or them others would; and I was that 
scared, I crawled along the passage, and down-stairs, 
and then sat and shivered, list’ning to you folks 
talking, and something in my head going buzz.” 

“ Why did you not come to us ?” said Rich kindly. 

“I did want to. Miss, but I dursn’t. I was ’fraid 
bout what you’d say; and there was the perliceman 


166 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


too, and I’d no business to be there, I d’know, only 
I was very frightened, and didn’t hardly know what 
I did. I never see anybody dead afore.” 

“ Well, what did you do then ?” 

“ Waited a bit, Miss, and then got out in the area, 
nipped over the rails, and went home and told 
mother.” 

“ But one minute,” cried Mark, pressing his hand 
to his breast; “did you — did you hear anything said 
about — about diamonds ?” 

“Yes,” cried the boy. “I beared one on ’em say, 
‘ Be cool, and the diamonds are ours.’ ” 

Mark uttered a groan. His last hope was crushed; 
and the boy went on : 

“ Mother said she know’d no good ’ud come of my 
being at a doctor’s, and that it all meant body- 
snatching and ’section, and that I shouldn’t get into 
trouble for no one. She said if I stopped I should 
be took up by the perlice ; and I was scared enough, 
and did as she said, and she took me with her down 
in the country.” 

“ In the country ? ” cried Hendon. “ Where did 
you go ? ” 

“ I d’know,” said the boy. “ Everywhere’s, I think. 
Tramping about, and sleeping in workusses ; and it’s 
been very cold and mis’able, and I’m very fond o’ the 
old woman ; only somehow—” 

“Well, Bob, why do you stop?” said Hendon. 

“Dunno, sir,” said the boy, looking very hard at 
Eich’s white hand. “I wouldn’t ha’ done it, on’y she 
was took bad, and they put her in one of the workus 
’firmaries, and wouldn’t let me stop along with her. 
They shoved me in a school as was all whitewash, 
with a lot more boys ; and I got in a row with some 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 1()7 

on ’em, and we had a fight, and the master caned me, 
and I hooked it; and please. Miss, mayn’t I stay ?” 


CHAPTER XVII. 

A JAR WRONGLY LABELLED. 

James Poynter blustered and threatened; but the 
only proceedings he took were the sending of threat- 
ening letters to Hendon — letters which Mark advised 
him to throw into the fire. 

“ Wait,” said the latter one evening, “ and let him 
develop his attack; we should only weaken our- 
selves by going out to meet him.” 

“ But if he really has claims on my father, and 
seizes this place ? ” 

“ Then, my lad, you and I must set to, and see if 
it is not possible for us to join hands and get to- 
gether another home for your father and sister — one, 
perhaps, that, if small, might be made happy till I 
came back.” 

“Came back?” said Janet, who had accompanied 
her brother to the doctor’s that evening. 

“ Yes, dear,” said Mark. “ I have not said a word 
to a soul ; but I’m going back to the Cape by the 
next boat.” 

“ To try your luck again ? ” said Hendon quickly. 

“To try my luck again,” replied Mark; and he 
glanced at Rich, who was seated at work with Janet, 
while the doctor looked on, and smiled placidly at 
both in turn. 

Rich turned very pale, but she did not speak. 

“ I have no prospects here,” continued Mark ; 


168 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


“ and out yonder I have faith in making some pro- 
gress. I shall tempt my fate again.” 

“And if I could only feel sure that those we left 
behind would be safe, ” cried Hendon, “ I’d go with 
you.” 

Janet’s eyes lit up, and it was a look more of en- 
couragement than blame which she directed at her 
lover. 

“ You, Hendon ?” said Mark, smiling. 

“Yes; I want to get away, and begin differently. 
I’m — there, look here, Mark Heath; with a strong- 
minded chap like you, I know I could get on, doc- 
toring or diamond-digging, or something of that 
kind. Hallo, what is it?” 

“Letter, sir.” 

“Letter? Why didn’t the boy bring it up ?’* 

“He’s a-dusting the surgery, sir,” replied the 
maid, who seemed to have been engaged upon some 
cleansing business in which she had been worsted. 

“ For you, Hendon,” said Eich, who had taken the 
letter. “ Is it from the hospital ?” 

“ No, it isn’t from the hospital,” said Hendon 
quietly, as he knit his brow over the correctly- 
written formal letter, in which a firm of solicitors 
respectfully informed him that unless certain sums 
due on dishonored bills were paid to them in a 
specified time, they were instructed by their client, 
Mr. James Poynter, to take immediate proceedings 
for the recovery of the debt. 

“ Mark, old chap, the attack Has begun ; ” and 
Hendon handed the letter to the former, who read 
it through. 

“ Let’s go down stairs,” he said. “ I want to talk 
to you.” 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


109 


‘‘ Is anything wrong? ” said Janet anxiously. 

“ Nothing fresh, my dear,” replied Mark: “ Hen- 
don and I are going to chat over matters. We shall 
be up again soon.” 

“ But is the news very bad ? ” said Kich. 

“No : on the whole good,” replied Mark; and he 
and Hendon went down-stairs, and were going into 
the dining-room, but the gas was lit in the surgery, 
and they went there, to find Bob going over the bot- 
tles, and, after a careful polish, putting them back. 

“ Be off for a bit, my boy,” said Hendon ; “ or — no ; 
go on with your work.” 

He took a match from a box on a shelf, and lit the 
consulting-room lamp. 

“ Here,” he said, “ room’s chilly ; we may as well 
have a pipe over it.” 

Mark nodded, and they smoked for a few minutes 
in silence. 

“ Why did you say that was good news ? ” said 
Hendon at last. 

“Because the enemy shows his hand.” 

“ Shows his hand? How? ” 

“ If he had any claim upon your father, he would 
have attacked him first. He has no claim. It was 
an empty boast.” 

“ So much the better,” cried Hendon. “ Well, that 
settles it. I shall go off with you.” 

Mark smoked in silence. 

“ If you’ll have me. But I say, old fellow, do you 
quite give up the diamonds ? ” 

“ Quite.” 

“You said you had been to the police again, yes- 
terday.” 


170 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


“Yes, and they say they think they can lay their 
hands upon the men when they try to sell.” 

“ Well, then, there is hope.” 

“Not a bit. They are cooling down. “I don’t 
think they have much faith in my story; and, besides, 
the matter is growing stale. They have a dozen 
more things on the way. Hendon, my lad, you love 
my sister ?” 

“On my — ” 

“ That will do. I believe it; but neither you nor I 
can marry for years to come. You shall go with me, 
and we will come back well enough off to make those 
two our wives.” 

“But Poynter’s debt? He’ll have me arrested 
before I can leave the country. ” 

“ His debt shall be paid.” 

“Paid?” 

“Not in full, but as much as is honestly due to 
him. I shall set a sensible solicitor to work to make 
a compromise.” 

“But the money? No, no; he will not give up. 
This is putting on the screw so as to move my sister.” 

“ Whom he will not move,” said Mark, smiling with 
content. “I suppose you are not likely to take up 
your father’s invention ?” 

“ Good gracious, no ! Millington, our big swell, 
told me, when I mentioned it, that it was a craze, 
and that it was contrary to nature. You can’t ar- 
rest ordinary decay.” 

“ No, of course not; life must go on till it reaches 
its highest pitch, and then decline.” 

“ Of course.” 

“Well, Took here, Hendon, Janet and I have a little 
money between us in Consols, and, as we are goinp 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


171 


to make a fresh start together, well do so clearly, 
and your debt shall be paid.” 

“ What, with Janet’s money? Hang it, no !” cried 
Hendon fiercely; “ I’m not such a cad as that.” 

“You are going to be my brother,” said Mark, 
smiling as he cla pped him on the shoulder, “ my 
younger brother, and you’ll do exactly what I bid 
you.” 

“Yes, but — ” 

“That will do. I see my way clearly now, so let’s 
go up-stairs and have a chat with the girls.” 

Hendon put down his pipe very slowly, and glanced 
up at a shelf, upon which some of the apparatus 
connected with his father’s dreams was standing; 
but it offered him no solution of his difficulties, and 
he followed Mark Heath into the surgery just as 
Janet and Kich, whe were unable longer to bear the 
suspense, came down to press for an explanation. 

“Here, I say,” saluted the party, from Bob, “who’s 
been a-meddlin’ with these here prep’rations ? ” 

“ What preparations ? ” said Hendon sharply. 

“ These here,” cried Bob, who had just taken down 
a large glass jar to dust. “ The doctor will be in a 
way. He don’t like no one to meddle with them.” 

The jar was labeled, like the row from which it 
had been taken, with a gummed-on slip of letter- 
paper, the contents being written in the doctor’s 
own bold hand, the ink now yellow with age, and the 
gummed-on label beginning to peel off. 

“Put the horrible thing away ! ” cried Hendon 
angrily. 

“ But some ’un’s been a-stuffing something else in 
here as don’t belong,” cried the boy. “I knows ’em 
all by heart. Look here ! ” 


172 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


He thrust his hand into the glass jar, after remov- 
ing the great stopper. 

“ What are you doing, boy ? ” cried Hendon, step- 
ping forward to arrest the lad’s action, as he drew 
out, all dripping with the spirit, a disgusting-look- 
ing swollen object, evidently a portion of the diges- 
tive viscera of a calf or sheep ; but before he could 
reach him, Mark uttered a wild cry, thrust him aside; 
and, as he snatched the hideous-looking object from 
Bob’s hand, the glass jar fell upon the surgery floor, 
was smashed to atoms, and a strong odor of methy- 
lated spirit filled the place. 

‘‘ You’ve done it now ! ” cried the boy piteously ; 
and then he stared as Mark dragged from his pocket 
a knife, and cut the string of what, in place of an 
anatomical preparation, was a soaked and swollen 
washleather bag. 

“ Look, Eich, look ! ” cried Mark, dropping the 
knife, his hands trembling with excitement, and his 
voice so husky and changed that it was hardly re- 
cognizable. 

As he spoke, he thrust Eich back upon the settee, 
and, with one quick motion, poured a couple of 
handfuls of rough diamonds into her lap. 

‘‘ Mark ! ” she cried, as he sank upon his knees be- 
fore her, and clasped her hands ; while, in his excite- 
ment, Hendon caught Janet in his arms, from which 
she might have.extricated herself a little more quickly 
than she did. 

“Now just look at that !” said Bob, picking up 
the bag, which had fallen upon the floor. “ Why, it’s 
just like one o’ them things as the doctor’s got saved 
up. I say,” he continued excitedly, “ lookye here, 
sir, there’s another one inside.” 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 178 

He drew out of the swollen leather bag a stone as 
big as a small marble, and held it out. 

“ Yes; and that’s yours, my boy,” cried Mark ex- 
citedly; “whatever it fetches shall be for you.” 

What ! my own?” cried Bob. 

“ Yes — yes !” 

“ To do what I like with, sir ?” 

“ Well, it shall be applied for your benefit, my lad.” 

‘Then I wants some on it now!” cried the boy 
excitedly. 

“ What for ?” said Eich. 

“To get my old ooman home.” 

“ And I want one, Mark,” cried Hendon. 

“Yes,” said Mark; “to pay James Poynter’sdebt.” 


CHAPTEE XYIII. 

KNOTTING UP LOOSE THREADS. 

It had been the doctor’s last act before he ad- 
mitted his assailants. As if inspired by a fear that 
his patient’s excited utterances might be true, and 
urged by the risk of leaving so valuable a treasure 
unprotected, he had taken the bag, and slipped it 
in a place not likely to be examined, though he never 
recovered sufficiently to recall what he had done. 

As to the two men who had visited the surgery 
that night, by a strange want of scent on the part of 
the sleuth-hounds of the law they were never found, 
one reason being that, with the cash they found in 
the belt Mark Heath wore, they had made their way 
back to the Cape. 

The house in Eamillies Street remained unchanged 


174 


THE BAG OF DIAMONDS. 


in aspect save that after a time, under the old doc- 
tor’s name, a new plate was affixed, bearing that of 
his son. 

The red light shone out every night, and the plates 
upon the door glistened in the sunshine, such little 
as came into the street, after Bob had been over the 
said plates with rotten-stone and oil, prior to “clean- 
ing hisself,” as he called it, and donning his new 
smart livery, ready to admit the patients who came ; 
but though James Poynter was often really sick, he 
sought advice there no more. 

That red light shone out every night with a dull 
glare across the road ; but whenever as ordinary con- 
stable, or later on as sergeant, John Why ley’s duties 
took him round that way, he always stopped, and 
rolled his head in his stock with a sapient shake. 

“ Ah ! ” he invariably said ; “ that there just was 
a fog ! ” 


[the end.j 


marks the women of our households when they undertake to make their 
homes bright and cheery. Nothing deters them. Their weary work may 
be ae long as the word which begins this paragraph, but they prove their 
regard for decent homes by their indefatigability. What a pity that any 
of them should add to their toil by neglecting to use Sapolio. It reduces 
the labor of cleaning and scouring at least one-half. 10c. a cake. Sold by 
all grocers. 


-flLB-A.lXrD03Xr DF»ia:YJSI0 2 




Dr. a. W. Thompson, Northampton, Mass., says: “I have tested the 
Gluten Suppositories, and consider them valuable, as indeed, I expected 
from the excellence of their theory.’’ 


Dr. Wm. Too Helmuth declares the Gluten Suppositories to be “ the 
best remedy for constipation which I have ever prescribed.” 

‘‘As Sancho Panza said of sleep, so say I of your Gluten Suppositories : 
God bless the man who invented them!” — E. L. Ripley, Burlington, Vt. 

“ I prescribe the Gluten Suppositories almost daily in my practice and 
am often astonished at the permanent results obtained.” — J. Montfort 
Schley, M.D., Professor Physical Diagnosis Woman’s Medical College, 
New York City. 

HEALTH FOOD CO., 75 4th Avenue, N. Y. 


THE BEST 

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EVER INVENTED, 
r^o Lady, l^arried oi* 
Single, Ricli or I»ooi% 
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witlioiit it after test- 
ing' its utility. 

gold by all first-elass 
Orocers,bnt beware of 
worthless imitations. 



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All business by correspondence is consolidated and transacted 
through the Members’ and Manufacturers’ Central Offices, located 
at 68 Wall Street, and 14 and i6 Vesey Street, New York City. 

The Association involves the use of Ten Million Dollars invested 
in machinery and manufactured stock, and at least five thousand 
employees. So perfectly is this vast syndicate’s systems adjusted, 
that each member gets a direct benefit of the whole organization, by 
saving from 10 to 50 per cent, on all goods purchased, and this 
without assuming any responsibility of loss or making ^ne obligation ; 
while on the other hand, each manufacturer sells his wares for spot 
cash, and only in such quantities as their high grade, quality, and 
reputation warrant. 

Every twenty-four hours the business is completed and not a dol- 
lar remains due to either member or manufacturer. Hence the 
magnificent achivements resulting after two years’ operations of 
this organization. 

Memberships are issued to persons, good for the exchtsive use of 
their families, upon payment of seventy-five (75) cents, Avhich sum is 
required to cover the expense of supplying the “Buyer’s Guide and 
Instructor,” a large quarto volume of 250 pages, sent to all new 
members free. 

Confidence in the Association is needed before it is of any real 
benefit to you. This can be obtained in two ways, viz.; ist. Inquire 
among your neighbors and find some friend who has had dealings 
with the organization ; or 2d, Venture to send some small trial 
orders and judge from the goods received whether the dealings are 
fair and advantageous to you. 

Orders for goods are received from and goods sent to all parts of 
the United States, with Kree 'Transportation when ten 
or more members combine or club their orders, the freight charges 
being paid by the Manufacturers at the Central Office. 

Apply at once, and make all remittances for either merchandise or 
membership fees payable to 

A. J. BISHOP, Conductor, 

Peoples Co-operative Supply Association, 

G8 Wall St., and II & 16 Yesey St, NEW YORK CITY. 




SCOTT’S 

TS AND Belts. 


Chambersburg’, Pa. 

I found Dr. Scott’s Electric Cor- 
sets possessed miraculous power 
in stimulating and invigorating my 
enfeebled body, and the Hair 
Brush had a magic effect on my 
scalp. Mrs. T. K. Snyder, 
Fancy Goods Dealer. 


De Witt, N. Y. 

I have an invalid sis- 
ter who had not been 
dressed for a year. 
She has worn Dr. 
Scott’s Electri 
Corsets for two 
weeks, and is now 
able to be dressed 
and sit up most ot 
the time. 

Melva J. Doe. 


Newark, N, Y. 

Dr. Scott’s Electric Corsets 
have entirely cured me of mus- 
cular rheumatism, and also of 
severe case of headache- 
MRs. E, c. Spencer. 


Flesh 
Insoles. 




Dr. Scott’s Electric Hair Brushes, $1.00, $1.50, $2.00, $2.50, $3.00; 
Brushes, $3.00 ; Dr. Scott’s Electric Tooth Brushes, 60 cents *- lusol 

PBOCTECTOB, $3.00; ELECTRIC HAIR 
CURLER, 60 cents; LUNG AND NERVE INVIGORA- 
TORS, $5.00 and $10.00. 

A RRFAT ^ Eive Caufassing Agent WANTED in 

UIILH I OyUuCOu your town for these spleiulidly advertised and 
Mest selling goods in the market. LIBERAL PAY, QUICK SALES. Satisfac- 
+4on guaranteed. Apply at once. GEO. A. SCOTT, 842 Broadway, N. Y. 




Corsets, $1.00, $1.59, $2.00, $3.00. Belts, $3.00. Nursing Corset 
Price, $1.50. Abdominal Corset, Price, $3.00„ 

Seventeen thonsand families in the City of New York alone are now wearing 
them daily. Every Man and Women, well or ill, should daily 
wear either the Corset or Belt. 

OUR CORSETS ARE DOUBLE STITCHED AND WILL NOT RIP. 

If you have any pain, ache, or ill-feeling from any cause, if you seem ** pretty well,” yet lack k, 
enet^ and do not **feel up to the mark,” if you suffer from disease, we beg you to at once try thest. I< 
remarkable curatives. They cannot and do not injure like medicine. Always doing good, n.^veif 
harm. There is no shock or sensation felt in wearing them. E’very mail brings us testimo7iials\ 
like the following^ : 

the celebrated Dr. W. a. 

Hammond, of New York, formerly 
Surgeon-General of the U. S. Army, 
lately lectured upon this subject, and 
advised all medical men to make 
trial of these agencies, describing at 
the same time most remarkable 
cures he had made, even in cases 
which would seem hopeless. 

The Corsets do not differ 
in appearance from those 
usually worn. They are 
elegant in shape and . JW 
finish, made after the 
best French pattern, 
and warranted satisfac- 
tory in every respect. 

Our Belts for both gents 
and ladies are the gen- 
uine Dr. Scott’s and are 
reliable. 

The prices are as 
follows: $1, $1.50, 
and $3 for the Cor- 
sets, and $3 each 
for the Belts. The 
accompanying cut 
represents our No. 

2, or $1.50 Corset. 

We have also a 
beautiful French shap- 
ed Sateen Corset at 
also a fine Sateen Abdom 
inal Corset at $3, and a short 
Sateen Corset at $2. The $1 
and $1.50 goods are made of 
^ fine Jean, elegant in shapt 
|| strong and durable. Nur- 
M singCorsets, $1.50; Miss- 
i es, 75c. Ail are double 
S stitched. Gents* and 
Ladies’ Belts, $3 each ; 

Indies’ Abdominal 
Supporter, an invalu- 
able article, $12. They 
are sent out in a hand- 
some box, accompanied by a 
silver-plated compass by which 
the Electro-Magnetic influence 
can be tested. If you cannot 
find them in your dry goods 
store, remit to us direct. We 
will send either kind to any 
address, post-paid, on receipt 
of price, with 20 cents added 
for packing and postage. 



We guarantee safe delivery into 
your hands. Remit in Post-Office 
Money-order, Draft, Check, or in Cur- 
rency by Registered Letter at our 
risk. In ordering kindly mention 
Loveirs Library, and state exapt 
size of corset usually worn. Malce 
^ all remittances payable to GEO. 
A. SCOTT, «42 Broadway, 
New York, 

stamped with the English 
coat-of-arms, and the 
name of the Proprie- 
ty^ tors, THE PALL 
MALL ELECT- 
V R I C ASSOCIA- 
TION. 

Hollis Centre, Me, 

I suffered severely from back 
trouble for years and found no 
relief till I wore Dr. Scott’s Elec- 
tric Corsets. They cured me, 
and i would not be without 
them. Mrs. h. d. Benson. 

Memphis, Tennessee. 
Dr. Scott’s Electric Corsets 
have given me much relief. I 
suffered four years with breast 
trouble, without finding any 
benefit from other remedies. 
They are invaluable. 

Mrs. Jas. Campbell, 


i 






The treatmeut of many thousands of 
cases of those chronic weaknesses and 
distressing- ailments peculiar to females, 
at the Invalids’ Hotel and Surgical In- 
stitute, Buffalo, N. Y., has afforded a 
vast experience in nicely adapting and 
thoroughly testing remedies for the 
cure of woman’s peculiar maladies. 

Dr. Pierce’s Favorite Prescrip- 
tion is the outgrowth, or result, of this 
great and valuable experience. Thou- 
sands of testimonials received from pa- 
tients and from physicians who have 
tested it in the more aggravated and 
obstinate cases which had baffled their 
skill, prove it to be the most wonderful 
remedy ever devised for the relief and 
cure of suffering women. It is not re- 
commended as a “cure-all,” but as a 
most perfect Specific for woman’s 
peculiar ailments. 

As a powerful, Invigorating 
Conic it imparts strength to the whole 
system, and to the uterus, or womb and 
its. appendages, in particular. For over- 
worked, “worn-out,” “run-down,” de- 
bilitated teachers, milliners, dressmak- 
ers, seamstresses, “shop-girls,” house- 
keepers, nursing mothers, and feeble 
women generally. Dr. Pierce’s Favorite 
Prescription is the greatest earthly boon, 
being unequalled as an appetizing cor- 
dial and restorative tonic. It promotes 
digestion and assimilation of food, cures 
nausea, weakness of stomach, indiges- 
tion, bloating and eructations of gas. 

As a sootliiiig and streugtlucii- 
liig nervine, “ Favorite Prescription ” 
is unequalled and is invaluable in allay- 
ing and subduing nervous excitability, 
irritability, exhaustion, prostration, hys- 
teria, spasms and other distressing, nerv- 
ous symptoms commonly attendant upon 
functional and organic disease of the 
womb. It induces refreshing sleep and 
relieves mental anxiety and despond- 
ency. . _ 

Dr. Pierce’s Favorite Prescrip- 
tion is a legitimate medicine, 
carefully compounded by an experienc- 
ed and skillful physician, and adapted 
to woman’s delicate organization. It is 
purely vegetable in its composition and 


perfectly harmless In its effects in any 
condition of the system. 

“Favorite Prescription” is a 
positive cure for the most compli- 
cated and obstinate cases of ieucorrhea, 
or “ whites,” excessive tiowung at month- 
ly periods, painful menstruation, unnat- 
ural suppressions, prolapsus or falling 
of the womb, weak bi.ck, “female weak- 
ness,” ante version, ret roversion, bearing- 
down sensations, chronic congestion, in- 
flammation and ulceration of the womb, 
inflammation, pain and tenderness in 
ovaries, accompanied with internal heat. 

In pregnancy, “ Favorite Prescrip- 
tion” is a “mother’s cordial,” relieving 
nausea, weakness of /stomach and other 
distressing symptoraj common to that 
condition. If its use is kept up in the 
latter months of gestation, it so prepares 
the system for delivery as to greatly 
lessen, and many times almost entirely 
do away with the smferings of that try- 
ing ordeal. 

“ Favorite Prescription,” whev» 
taken in connection with the use of 
Dr. Pierce’s Golden Medical Discovery, 
and small laxative doses of Dr. Pierce’s 
Purgative Pellets (Little Liver Pills), 
cures Liver, Kidney and Bladder dls, 
eases. Their combined use also removes 
blood taints, and abolishes cancerous 
and scrofulous humors from the system. 

Treating tlie Wrong Disease.— 
Many times women call on their family 
physicians, suffering, as they imagine, 
one from dyspepsia, another from heart 
disease, another from liver or kidney 
disease, another from nervous exhaus- 
tion or prostration, another with pain 
here or there, and in this way they all 
present alike to themselves and their 
easy-going and indifferent, or over-busy 
doctor, separate and distinct diseases, 
for which he prescribes his pills and 
potion^ assuming them to be such, 
when, in reality, they are all only symp^ 
toms caused by some womb disorder. 
The physician, ignorant of the cause of 
suffering, encourages his practice until 
large bills are made. The suffering pa- 
tient gets no better, but probably worse 
by reason of the delay, wrong treatment 
and consequent complications. A prop- 
er medicine, like Dr. Pieil^je’s Favorilo 
Prescription, directed to the cause would 
have entirely removed the disease, there- 
by dispelling all those distressing symp- 
toms, and instituting comfort instead of 
prolonged misery. 

“Favorite Prescription” is the 
only medicine for women sold, by drug- 
gists, niider a positive guarantee, 
from the manufacturei’S, that it will 
give satisfaction in every case, or money 
will be refunded. This guarantee has 
been printed on the bottle-wrapper, and 
faithfully carried out for many years. 
Large bottles (100 doses) $1.00, or 
six bottles for $5.00. 

Send ten cents in stamps for Dr. 
Pierce’s large, illustrated Treatise (ICO 
pages) on Diseases of Women. Address, 
World’s Dispensary Medical Association, 
NO, 66« Main sxbbxt, buffalo^ n. r. 


THE UNE SELECTED BY THE U. S. GOVERNMENT TO CARRY THE FAST MAIL. 

WHEN YOU TRAVEL 

TAKE THE 



Through Trains between CHICAGO, PEORIA, ST. LOUIS and 

OiNVER. KANSAS CITY. ST. PAUL. 

OMAHA. ATCHISON. MINNEAPOLIS. 

.COUNCIL BLUFFS. ST. JOSEPH. DUBUQUE. 

^LINCOLN. TOPEKA. DE8 MOINES. 

grains to and from NEW YORK, BOSTON, PHIUDELPHIA and ail points EAST, connect with 
Through Trains via the Burlington Route to and from 

SAN FRANCISCO, PORTLAND, CITY OF MEXICO, 

AND ALL RESORTS IN COLORADO AND O N THE PACIFIC COAST. 

The only railroad west of Chicago having la DOUBLE TRACK to the Mississippi River. The 
only line running THROUGH SLEEPERS between CHICAGO AND DENVER, and .'between CHICAGO 
AND TOPEKA. 

For tickets, rates, maps, or further information concerning the Burlington Route, apply to Ticket 
Agents of its own or connnecting lines. 

HENRY B. STONE, PAUL MORTON, 

Gtn«ral Manager. CHICAGO. General Passenger and Ticket Agent. 


THE TUXEDO SUIT. 

A comple costume of original design, novel, elegant, 
and graceful, consisting of Cap, Blouse, Skirt, and 
Sash, Full Fashion, knitted of the Finest Worsted 
Materials, made in a variety of> Colorings, and in 
Patterns to match throughout 

From its texture it is especially adapted for 

Lawn Tennis, Yachting, Rowing, Gymna- 

sium, the Mountains, and ail Athletic 
and Out-door Sports for Ladies. 

and Children, 

Send for Descriptive Circular. 

These suits for sale only by ^ 

JAMES McOREERY & GO., 

Broadway and Eleventh Street, New York. 









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